


Masters of Death

by enchanted_nightingale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Harry Potter/Highlander Crossover, M/M, Quickeninngs, beheadings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchanted_nightingale/pseuds/enchanted_nightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if immortals were not the only ones who could cheat death? How does the immortal known as Death meet with the only mortal who mastered Death?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

It had been raining the first day they met. It was in a small bakery in Paris, they had both been after the last cinnamon roll. To the immortal that went by Adam Pierson it was one of the best pastries he had ever tasted and to the wizard Harry Potter it was a habit he acquired when he joined the Muggle world. In the end no one backed down and the green eyed man suggested they shared it. Adam had laughed and accepted.

* * *

 

The second time wizard and immortal met Adam had sought Harry out, inviting him for a cup of coffee. It was then that he learned more personal information about the raven haired mortal that had captured his attention. Harry James Potter was twenty five years old, worked for fun and not because he had to. He loved the outdoors and only read books when it was raining. He also had a dry humour quite similar to his own when he wanted to. Adam also noticed how veteran-like he acted, always studying faces, his surrounding space and how he had his back covered. Harry Potter was a mystery and Adam liked mysteries, they made immortality interesting.

* * *

 

Harry’s impression about Adam Pierson was that the man had eyes far older than the age he looked to be. His voice had a very British sound to it but under it there was the lilt of one who spoke many languages, travelled and seen a lot. Harry’s curious nature had not abated since graduating Hogwarts but he had learned to curb it. So he did not ask a lot of personal questions. Just about his age, nationality and the like. When Adam had jokingly said he was over five thousand years old, Harry had studied the man carefully.

“You certainly have that look, in your eyes,” Harry had replied.

Adam had coughed and looked decisively better when Harry changed the subject.

* * *

 

The third time they met it was for lunch. Adam noticed how the other man picked at his food, like a little sparrow really. It was then he realized that the younger man had been starved at some point, or been through a war. But there were no wars in Britain so that only left abuse. He knew it was not a question one asked a stranger so he swallowed his curiosity and complemented Harry’s eyes.

“My mum’s eyes,” Harry replied. “The colour at least. The shade is completely different.”

“She must be proud of you.”

“I’d like to think so; she died when I was fifteen months old.”

“Way to kill a conversation,” Adam muttered to himself.

But the wizard just waved it off and complemented him on his choice of restaurant, thus abruptly but effectively changing the subject.

* * *

 

Harry did not realize when he first started noticing Adam in a different way. It just happened gradually. He started paying attention to Adam’s voice, enjoying that elusive accent, the way he moved like a predator whenever he walked, the way he smiled. He did not even care when Adam used that cynical attitude of his to comment on people and things, in fact he found it an endearing quirk. When Harry started eyeing his hips and lips he started realizing that he wanted Adam to be more than his friend.

* * *

 

It was the smile and those bright emerald eyes that caught Adams attention, but it was Harry’s personality that kept the immortal interested. The Immortal that had forgotten his true name after five thousand years had met a lot of people in his long life. Few things could impress him anymore or hold his interest for long but Harry had just that something that made him not want to leave the green eyed man’s side. He was drawn to Harry and while he usually went for women (five thousand years were too long to stick to one gender), he was thinking about exploring what could be with this man.

* * *

 

The first time they went out to get drunk they ended up in Harry’s apartment, sprawled on the floor, heads buzzing and tongues loose.

“You know, it’s so easy being around you,” Harry mumbled as he turned on his side, head resting against Adam’s arm.

“Hmm,” the immortal sighed and took another swig from his beer bottle.

“I’ve only known you for two months,” Harry rambled. “And you just feel so…”

“Familiar,” Adam finished. He turned his chin down and saw Harry looking at him. Those emerald eyes were unlike any other shade he had ever seen. It was like they glowed with lightning and fire.

“Familiar,” Harry whispered his agreement.

Adam stared at him a bit more before he inched his head closer, his eyes never leaving Harry’s gem like eyes.

When their lips touched, Harry sighed at the contact, like a weight from his chest had been lifted. He tilted his head more, giving Adam the chance to deepen their kiss.

They spent the whole night in that spot simply kissing till all the alcohol made them fall asleep.

* * *

 

The immortal enjoyed Harry’s house as much as he enjoyed the owner. It was a small, two storey house with a view to the Seine. The inside had warm tapestries and wooden floors. The furniture looked like old, well preserved antiques; they even had a crest on them with Latin words written on them, but Adam was too distracted by the ancient books to bother. The researcher in him was like a kid in a candy store. Most books were biographies Harry would later tell him, but Adam liked that even more.

* * *

 

Harry enjoyed his life in the Muggle world. He had spent years away from the magical community living away from the fame and the attention that came with being the Boy-Who-Lived. When he had announced to Ron and Hermione he would be leaving the UK only the red head had been surprised. When he continued about his plans to live among Muggle’s even Hermione had been surprised. But they had supported him, both of them, and Andromeda and his too cute for words godson. They supported him when Harry decided to go to a culinary school to be a chef, and again when he grew bored and restless and decided to study art. It had been a long but fulfilling decade and Harry was sufficiently distracted from the fact that while his friends grew, Andromeda earned grey hair and Teddy was now attending Hogwarts, Harry did not look a day older than the day he died in the forbidden forest.

* * *

 

“He looks nothing like Caesar,” Adam protested.

“It’s just a documentary,” Harry told him.

“Well they could have found a better actor. And don’t get me started on Cleopatra. She was not half as good looking as Taylor, not her face that is.”

Harry blinked at him. “You really like your history.”

Adam shrugged. “Just shut this off, it’s a disgrace.”

The wizard rolled his eyes. “It’s raining. We cannot go outside.”

“We could stay in…” Adam hinted.

“And do what?”

Adam gave him a suggestive look. “I can think of a few things.” 

Harry chuckled till Adam occupied his mouth with other activities.

* * *

 

They were shopping for wine. Adam had insisted he would cook for Harry. It was also the first time the wizard would visit Adam’s house and the Gryffindor was feeling curious. He watched as his friend and boyfriend studied the labels on various bottles.

“We’re taking the Bordeaux,” Adam finally decided. “What do you think, one bottle or two?”

“Are you thinking of getting me drunk?” Harry faked being scandalized.

“You’re onto my evil plan.”

“You forgot the evil cackle,” Harry helpfully reminded him.

“Damn, I knew I missed something.”

* * *

 

Harry slept with Adam on his first visit at the man’s house. It had not been the wine that had lowered his inhibitions; neither of them had even been buzzed after the first and only bottle they opened. But the warmth he had felt in his belly all evening while he watched the man work in the kitchen and then when he sat next to him at the table. Harry started feeling light headed around Adam even before he had tasted the wine. It just happened. One moment they were jokingly fighting over who would clear the table and the next they were kissing. Only when they started kissing Harry felt that warmth in his belly turn to heat. Next thing he knew clothes were flying and the two of them were trying to touch as much of each other’s skin as they could.

* * *

 

Adam had never been gladder for having more than five millennia worth of experience in carnal pleasures and the stamina that he gained through battling other immortals, because both came in handy when he finally managed to get Harry into his bed (or at least part way there). Harry’s body turned out fitter and firmer than he ever imagined, with a very nice tan that he only managed to pay attention to the following morning. The immortal had enjoyed every inch of his new lover and looked forward to having him again.

* * *

 

Harry was at his lover’s house again. Adam’s house was much like the owner, simple and mysterious at the same time. The stark white walls, the artwork that reminded Harry of torture devices he had seen in the dungeons of Hogwarts, the sheer number of leather bound tomes that looked out of place, it was too impersonal.

“So?” Adam waited for Harry’s opinion.

“It’s… boring.”

“Boring?!”

Harry nodded emphatically. “Much like you.”

“You… Prepare to pay.”

Harry bolted.

* * *

 

“No.”

“But I want to,” the shorter of the two complained.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just because.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Adam… Are you scared of snakes?”

The immortal sputtered. “I. Am. Not.”

“Then come on.”

Adam refused to move a foot closer to the reptile house of the zoo. The immortal had been bitten by a couple of cobras during his stay in Egypt and then again during his trips in Asia. He remembered the pain of the bite and the burn of the venom but he could not just tell Harry.

“Adam, they are enclosed behind glass. Nothing can hurt you. Now come on.”

Adam’s hand was tagged again and he all but stumbled inside the dark place, staying close to his partner.

During their too long for his taste visit, the immortal noticed how all the cold blooded creatures ignored the rest of the visitors and focused solely on Harry.

* * *

 

They were in bed one morning and Harry’s attention was once again drawn to the tattoo on Adam’s left wrist. Harry had a very bad experience with tattoos. Voldemort’s not so merry band of men had tattoos. Harry himself got a tattoo on his eighteenth birthday. George had been drunk that day and an equally drunk Harry had not raised any objections. That was the reason Adam was now trailing the ink-made black phoenix that was perched and seemed ready to fly on Harry’s left shoulder blade.

* * *

 

Adam had been scandalized to realize that Harry did not have a car. So car hunting it was that day. And Adam’s obsession with cars was worse than Ron Weasley’s love for food. Harry surrendered himself to a day full of cars, boring terminology and weird mechanical terms. After five hours of car hunting even Adam lost his stoicism and gave up on him.

“Well, you just decide for yourself. I give up.”

“Good, cause I like that one,” Harry declared, making both his lover and the car salesman gasp as Harry’s pointing finger showed a very small, silver Peugeot . “What? It’s cute and shiny.”

The other two groaned.

* * *

 

Harry loved Adam’s clothes. They were usually larger than the man’s frame and made Adam look smaller in them, weaker, hiding his true self like a disguise. But Harry liked that they covered his muscled body too well leaving the wizard to enjoy the fact that he alone knew what lay underneath. But it was not possessiveness of the owner that made Harry like those clothes, it was also the smell they had after Adam had worn them. So Harry started borrowing his lover’s clothes so that he could enjoy Adam’s scent when they were apart. His lover at first looked confused but then he caught on and looked even a bit smug whenever he spotted Harry wearing his clothes.

* * *

 

Adam tried to understand why Harry did not like having his picture taking. Once a photographer had offered him a chance to model and the immortal knew Harry could actually pull it off; he was a handsome man and his eyes were captivating, not to mention that deliciously slim and toned body that was obstructed by those clothes. But Harry had politely declined, claiming he was not comfortable with cameras. Adam thought to his own discomfort at leaving evidence of his existence and for the first time wondered if Harry had anything to hide.

* * *

 

Harry pouted. He hated when Adam was more focused on his work. There were days when those leather bound tomes were taking all of Adam’s attention and time. The smell some of them had reminded him of the ancient books back in the library at Hogwarts, the parchments he used for seven years to write his homework. One day he gave into his curiosity and asked Adam if he could read one of the oldest ones. His lover merely chuckled.

“Go ahead,” he had urged him.

Harry did. And he was surprised to realize the book was written in Latin. He had learned the language at some point so he had no trouble reading the book. So he got comfortable and started reading.

 

* * *

 

Adam was shocked to see his lover reading through the chronicles that detailed his exploits in ancient Rome. Then came the realization that his lover, who usually hated reading books knew Latin and was currently actually reading his memoirs.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“You know Latin?”

“Sure. I went to a boarding school for seven years.”

Adam swallowed. “Do you know any other language?”

“French. Little bit of Romanian. Ancient Greek, though my pronunciation sucks. And I had to learn Chinese cause I lost a bet. Oh, and I spend a couple of years in Egypt with some… archaeologists so I can read a few hieroglyphics too. Oh! I know Gaelic as well…” Harry tailed off, trying to remember to leave the magical languages out of his list.

The immortal felt a bit faint and even started wondering if immortals could get heart attacks. The way things were going he would not be able to hide things from Harry long and…

“This is a cool story,” Harry spoke again. “Are you aspiring to be a writer?”

“Not really, no; just a hobby of mine.”

“Pity. This stuff is a great read,” Harry complimented him. Then he curled in his spot and continued reading.

* * *

 

For their six month anniversary they visited [Chateau de Siorac](http://www.infohub.com/Lodgings/lodging_pages/2314.html), a charming 16th century French Chateau in the heart of the Dordogne. They stayed for four days, just the two of them in that castle, enjoying each other away from everyone else. And it was magical. Adam did not leave Harry out of his sight for longer than a few minutes. Those four days were spent much like Ron and Hermione’s honeymoon from what Harry had heard from his bushy haired friend.

* * *

 

They met outside, at a small coffee shop. Adam gave him a quick peck on the lips before claiming the seat next to Harry. Then he noticed the newspaper.

“I’m checking for places to rent or buy,” Harry told him when he asked.

“What for?”

“I’m thinking of opening a store.”

“A store?”

“Mm. I want to bake things.”

Adam smiled. “Like croissants?” he said in a perfect French accent.

“Yes, those too. But mostly pies, cakes, stuff like that.”

“My Harry, a baker.”

“Your Harry, am I?”

“Mine, all mine.”

Harry smiled at him and gave him a rather heated kiss that drew whistles from the other patrons.

* * *

 

Harry found a place for his shop rather quickly. There was not another bakery nearby so he believed he had pretty good chances of making his shop earn something. It had a ground floor and a small attic above. On the ground floor there would be comfortable couches alongside the left wall, with fluffy pillows, all in rich warm reds and creams and comfortable chairs facing the walls creating an alley that led to the back. There was a staircase that led to the attic with more couches and tables. The floors were wooden and just needed polishing and the walls needed new tapestry. There was also place on the ground floor for Harry’s dream kitchen, a display of the baked goods and a loo.

 “Quaint,” Adam said when he saw it.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” Harry commented.

“You are not taking my words the way I intended them.”

“There, there wittle Addie…”

“Are you using baby talk?” the immortal was scandalized.

“What was that my tasty little treacle tart?”

“Not that infernal nickname!”

Harry arched his right eyebrow.

Adam caved. “Fine! I’ll stop making cynical comments. The place is lovely Harry.”

“Thank you!”

* * *

 

Adam’s bed was filled with catalogues and order forms with everything Harry needed for his shop. It was a real mess when Hurricane Harry made his house a catalogue. But the immortal enjoyed it. Harry was around for longer intervals so Adam learned some rather cute habits his lover had. Like the fact that Harry loved drinking his coffee straight but his tea with at least two sugars. When Harry brainstormed he enjoyed pacing and muttering to himself in an amalgamation of languages. Harry also took very, very long bubble baths when he tried to think and he would stay in the water till he almost turned into a prune. Whenever he was nervous he would worry his lower lip till he drew blood.  He also had the habit of patting his hand to his forehead. He was also obsessed with cleanliness in the kitchen but loved the mess and disorder in the rest of the house. And Adam enjoyed every quirk that was revealed to him. Especially the one with the bubble baths as Harry tended to ask Adam to join him.

* * *

 

It took Harry three months to fix everything up in the shop, get a license and all the other papers he needed  and one more month to actually figure out a name for the place. The idea came from Adam. One night, after a whole day Harry had spent being frustrated by the repairmen, Adam had finally shut him up with a kiss, ordered him to shower and then pushed him on a bed where he went about giving Harry the best massage of his life. By the end of it Harry was putty in his lover’s expert hands.

“How about ‘Sugary Goodness’?”

Harry stiffened beneath his hands. “Why don’t I throw a bucket of pink color and frills while I’m at it?” he snarked.

“No?”

“No.”

“Okay then. How about ‘Uncle Harry’s Baked Goodies’?”

“No.”

“Harry’s corner? Or Perhaps ‘Petit Mort’?”

“Adam…”

“The Big Bun?”

Harry twitched.

“No.”

“Then…”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“Something perverted,” Harry muttered.

“I don’t understand where you got that ridiculous idea that I’m a pervert.”

“Adam, every word that comes out of your mouth is either cynical, sarcastic or contains sexual innuendos.”

The immortal denied it but Harry simply smiled into the mattress. It was fun teasing his lover.

“I can forgive you if you do something for me,” Harry said then.

“What?”

“Keep moving those hands. And don’t try naming my shop.”

Adam gave an exaggerated sigh and started working on Harry again. Inwardly he wondered at Harry’s ability to manipulate him but he filed it away. He could get even easily enough.

* * *

 

Adam Pierson had done a lot of things in his long life. Dating a baker had never been one nor had been baking things himself. The shop would be opening later that day and Harry had woken up at three in the morning to prepare for the day. The immortal poured more flour to keep the dough from sticking to his fingers. Harry was observing from his bench; he was finishing up the cakes. Every now and then he would giggle at his lover’s struggle. Adam knew he looked ridiculous but all the same enjoyed the time he spent with Harry even if he was covered in flour and sugar.

“How are you doing there?” Harry asked him.

“It’s going…” the immortal replied. “Just tell me we won’t be doing that every day.”

“We won’t,” Harry promised.

“Thank the gods,” Adam sighed.

* * *

 

In the end Harry’s shop was named ‘The Bakery’ for lack of imagination. From the first week it became quite the hit with the locals and after a month of steadily increasing clientele Harry was hopeful it would be a good business. The wizard had asked Adam’s help only that one day. After that he went two hours before the shop opened and with the help of a House Elf named Fifi the wizard had purchased as extra help around the shop. After the first week he also hired Mirka, a young French squib, that was delighted to work in a semi magical shop. This way Harry had no trouble working his magic in the kitchen and he had time to spend with his lover.

* * *

 

When that call from the States came Adam felt worry for the first time during that decade. Joe Dawson called him to let him know that some immortal named Kalas was hunting for Methos, the elusive five thousand year old Immortal that Adam was supposed to be researching as a Watcher. He also learned that one of his good friends, a researcher and archivist for the Watchers’ organization, had been killed by Kalas. Joe told him that while Kalas was on a warpath, another immortal was trying to stop him, one Duncan MacLeod. And they were already in France. Adam feared that his perfect days with Harry were coming to an end.

* * *

 

Harry was worried. There was something wrong with Adam. His lover had been jittery lately. He kept looking over his shoulder and he avoided certain parts of Paris like the plague was still there. The wizard wanted to ask what was wrong but he also did not want to intrude. Finally, after a week of weird behavior from Adam Harry asked about his strange behavior.

“I… I want to tell you,” Adam told Harry. “I truly do. But I do not know whether you can take it.”

“Is it a third person?”

“What?”

“Adam, are you having an affair?”

“No!”

A weight Harry did not even know he had left him. “Then what are you worried about?”

Adam did not answer him and Harry kept worrying.

* * *

 

That day at the shop was busy and Harry did not even have time to think about his relationship. Fifi and Mirka were kept equally busy and Harry worked the cash register. There were not many Muggle’s that could get Harry’s attention, but when a tall man with long dark hair came inside. He sort of stood out from his Muggle clients and the elderly wizard couple that started coming to his shop every day for coffee.

“Hello,” the stranger walked to the counter.

“Hello! Welcome to our shop. What would you like to order?” Harry asked.

“You’re British.” The man seemed surprised.

“You sound Scottish,” Harry replied.

“I am. I’ll take a croissant and a cappuccino.”

“Will you sit or take it with you?”

“To go,” the stranger with the Scottish lilt said.

Harry had a thoughtful look on his face after the man left. He did not think it was a coincidence that another man showed up that had the same aura as Adam. Harry stopped believing in coincidences years ago.

* * *

 

Methos had thought that adopting the identity of Adam Pierson would have offered him more cover. Now that he had access to the database of the Watcher’s Council he knew where other immortals were most of the time and he could avoid them. He had not had to actually fight or take a head for two centuries. The Quickening’s had gotten worse the older he became and he dreaded having them. Methos was hardly tired of being alive even after five millennia and he wanted to keep living. He held no illusions about his skills. He was good with the sword but he relied on skill and speed, not strength, he never had that. There were other Immortals that were far stronger than him. Methos would not lose his head to this Kalas, no matter what the whelp wanted. If not for himself then at least for Harry. He did not want his lover to find his decapitated body. The only way to escape Kalas would be if MacLeod fought that guy first. It meant though that Methos would have to reveal his identity to the Highlander.

* * *

 

Harry watched the owl fly away and he tried to ignore the pang of sorrow he felt. Ever since Hedwig had taken that Killing Curse for him, Harry had not even thought about buying another owl. His friends at one point grew exasperated with him and bought him a male falcon. Harry had managed to keep Osiris away from his lover. A simple charm so that Muggle’s would not notice the falcon, meaning Adam would not see his feathered helper either. The bird had its own home in Harry’s attic and a perch in Teddy’s room in Britain too. In fact, the envelope Harry was holding now came from his godson.

“Let’s see what that boy is up to now,” the proud godfather mused.

* * *

 

Adam had not expected company that afternoon seeing as Harry was busy that day. Feeling another immortal approach was the most certain way to spoil Methos’ mood. The five thousand year old immortal kept his sword close to him. He relaxed only when he saw it was Duncan MacLeod who found him and not Kalas. The Highlander was exactly what Joe had said he would be but even he had not expected the man to be so bloody nice. He certainly was smart enough to realize that Adam was the famed oldest immortal. Adam then invited MacLeod out for a walk. Neither knew that Kalas was at that moment breaking into Adam’s house.

* * *

 

They were in Harry’s kitchen after yet another feast from Adam’s hands. Harry was confused when Adam suggested that they should take a trip for a few days, just to get out of Paris. The timing was somewhat odd and while his lover was known for being spontaneous Harry found it suspicious that the man wanted to leave when he was so jittery. Something was definitely up and the wizard was not going to put up with it.

“Okay, spill,” Harry ordered.

“What?” Adam seemed startled.

“You are ready to crawl out of your skin, like something’s after you.”

“Right…”

“Adam.” Harry narrowed his eyes.

His lover sighed.

“I guess it’s time then.”

Harry frowned. “Time for what?”

The frown only deepened when he saw Adam taking hold of an extremely sharp kitchen knife. Before Harry could blink, his lover dragged the blade over his open palm. Harry cried out in shock when blood poured from the cut. He hurried for a towel but Adam asked him to stop.

“Look,” he told Harry.

And the wizard could only stare as the cut that healed before his eyes.

“Harry,” Adam’s voice was low, trying to be soothing. “My love, I’m not like you. I cannot die, Harry. I’m an immortal Harry.”

But the younger man was still staring at the blood.

“You… great… dork!”

“Dork?” Adam repeated.

Harry gave him a hard glare. “If you hurt yourself again for any stupid reason I’ll kill you, you hear me?”

“Can’t really die,” Adam smirked.

“Still, I bet exsanguination can hurt.”

“Harry…” The rest was cut off as his lover gave him an almost desperate kiss.

“Don’t do that again,” Harry pleaded when he pulled back.

“I won’t hurt myself again,” Adam replied.

“Promise me.”

Adam held him tighter as he explained about the Immortals. He told Harry about him, that his real name was not Adam Pierson but Methos, the oldest immortal that currently walked the earth. He told Harry about the Game, the Quickening’s, the Watchers.

“So what should I call you?” Harry asked in the end.

“Anything you want,” the immortal replied.

“Methos,” Harry tried the name. “It is catchy.”

* * *

 

Harry had a lot more questions for his lover after the first shock wore off. For Harry to literally be with someone who could not die was odd. Harry had probably died as an infant, momentarily at least, and then again as the final battle culminated. The second death had been instant, painless. On the other hand Voldemort’s second and final death could not be considered peaceful. The whole thing about death was odd for Harry. Especially now that he had all three Hallows again. It was funny how the Resurrection Stone he had ditched at the Forbidden Forest had been returned to him. One day when he was at Andromeda’s house a snake had slithered over to him with the Gaunt ring carried on its tail. The snake had bobbed its head at him before offering the ring to Harry. The wizard had been left speechless. In a similar way the Elder wand that he had returned to Dumbledore’s grave managed to return to Harry via Fawkes. The phoenix had flashed over to him when Harry first moved to France carrying the wand made from elder wood in his talons. Harry Potter was officially the Master of the Deathly Hallows. The results of this were still to be seen. Now he had to deal with an immortal boyfriend. Harry could only hope that no Horcruxes were involved this time.

* * *

 

Adam came home the day after his confession to Harry looking like a drowned rat. And the smell… It was awful. Harry was itching to use a ‘Bubble head’ charm to protect his nose. Then his sharp eyes caught the sword that Methos held in his grip.

“What happened?” Harry asked him. “Were you attacked?”

“Kalas,” was all Adam said. “He was waiting for me near my house. Can I crash here?”

“Of course, you don’t even need to ask,” Harry responded. “You know where I keep your spare clothes.”

Adam nodded. He placed his sword next to the coffee table and headed upstairs to change.

Harry followed after him, still worried about the immortal.

* * *

 

In the end Methos had concocted a plan to get rid of Kalas in a way that would not force him to leave Paris and the life he had built in this city. And he would not be leaving Harry behind, which was something he wanted even more. It had been dangerous but Adam had tracked down MacLeod and almost made the Highlander take his head. But the Scottish man had come through and in the end he went to face Kalas. That was when Methos stepped in. He had the French police interrupt the duel between the other two immortals and had them arrest Kalas for [Dan Salzer](http://highlander.wikia.com/index.php?title=Dan_Salzer&action=edit&redlink=1)’s murder. He watched as Kalas was hauled away with a small amount of satisfaction.

“Why?” was the only thing MacLeod asked.

“Remember, Highlander, live, grow stronger. Fight another day,” were Adam’s parting words.

_(Last line is a quote from the series)_

* * *

 

Harry wiped the sweat from his brow. The last of his lover’s things were in the house. Most of the books were put away on shelves and his clothes were already in Harry’s closet. The rest of the weird artwork was in some rented warehouse as Harry did not want those monstrosities in his house.

“Was that everything?” Harry asked.

“Yes. And thank you for doing this,” Methos told him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Harry replied. He kissed his lover’s lips while he walked past the man. “Mi casa es su casa and all that.”

Methos kissed back. His gaze followed Harry’s behind as the younger man went up the stairs. It was way better than staying alone in that apartment. Plus, he felt giddy just imagining MacLeod’s face when he saw his old apartment empty.

* * *

 

It was near Christmas when a letter came and got Harry’s complete attention.

“What is it?” Methos asked.

“Andromeda,” Harry replied.

“I knew an Andromeda once,” the immortal recalled. “She was a priestess of Hestia back in Athens around 300 B.C.”

“She’s a distant relative,” Harry muttered. “And my godson’s grandmother.”

“You have a godson?”

“Yes, Teddy.”

“From Theodore?”

“Mm, yes. And he’s coming here for Y-Christmas.”

“He is?”

Harry showed him the letter.

“What’s Hogwarts?” Methos asked.

“A boarding school in Scotland,” Harry replied. “He’s twelve years old.”

“Want me to move out for a few days?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry told him.

* * *

 

Teddy Lupin arrived via Port-key in the International Magical Terminal of France. Harry met with his little wolf and hugged the boy tightly.

“How I missed you little moon,” he muttered into sky blue hair that changed to red to match the youth’s embarrassed face.

“Harry,” Teddy gleefully hugged back.

“Got your trunk?”

Teddy patted his pocket. “Shrunk and secure.”

“Your wand?”

“Nowhere near my buttocks,” Teddy informed.

Harry chuckled. “Come on then. How does hot chocolate and croissants sound?”

“Is there whipped cream?”

“Yes.”

“And chocolate sprinkle?”

“Of course,” Harry replied.

“Okay then,” the younger wizard nodded.

“Good. Did your Gran place a Notice-Me-Not spell on your hair?”

“Yup!”

“Then we’re good to go.”

* * *

 

Methos had not been good with children since the time he had been one and those memories were so vague and faded that it did not count. When Harry returned home with his godson in tow it had been an awkward moment for the immortal. The boy had been shy at first but after the ice broke Methos had to struggle to keep up with him. And the ice broke over swords of all things. The immortal kept his secondary sword on the mantle above the fireplace now; Kalas might be in jail but he now had two immortals knowing that Adam Pierson was truly Methos. Teddy had pointed excitedly at the sword and compared it to some of Harry’s collection, which was quite impressive as it turned out.

“Harry, you’ve been holding out on me,” Methos pouted.

“I was not. You just never asked if I could handle a sword.”

“I am now. Can you?”

“Somewhat. Nothing much though.”

“I could teach you,” Methos offered with a leer.

“Ewe. Gross. Don’t kiss!” Teddy cried out.

“Why not? Don’t Victoire’s parents kiss?” Harry teased.

Teddy grimaced. “They’re gross too. And Victoire agrees with me.”

The adults shared an amused look.

“Well, if we don’t kiss how about we eat?” Harry asked.

“Food!” Teddy crowed in delight. “Do you have meat?”

“Yes.”

Teddy bit his lip. “Is it…” He snuck a glance at his godfather’s partner.

“With blood, yes,” Harry told the kid.

Then he ruffled his hair, much to Teddy’s horror, though the boy also leaned closer to the touch, he was quite the affectionate creature.

“First though, wash your hands, both of you,” Harry told his godson and to Methos.

Two identical groans came from the duo.

* * *

 

Adam spent the next fourteen days in a festive mood unlike any other. The immortal had worshiped many gods, the Egyptians, the Olympians. He had been worshiped as a god himself. Christianity had not been his religion though. And apparently it was not Harry’s or Teddy’s main religion. They were pagans. Teddy had let it slip at some point that it was Yule they celebrated. So on December 21st they burned the Yule log much like the old Celts used to do when Methos was much younger. It was like he had stepped back in time as far as Methos was concerned. And he enjoyed it immensely.

* * *

 

Teddy was raised as a pagan. His grandmother might have married a Muggleborn but she was a Black in blood. Teddy learned all about important wizarding traditions, celebrations and beliefs. But like any child he looked forward to opening presents, hence the wonderfully decorated tree with a small mountain of presents under it. The young boy had loved every single one of them. Like every year he received the best present from his godfather. Harry had given him a small wolf earring made of platinum (which Harry helped him put on almost immediately) and a collection of Muggle fantasy books that Teddy loved.  And then Methos, who Teddy had been instructed to call Adam when they were not in the house and the boy did not question it, had given him his very own sword and it even had a wolf carved on the handle. After Harry had assured him it was not made of silver Teddy nearly choked Methos with his hug. For Teddy it was the best Yule ever.

* * *

 

Harry’s gift to Methos was personally delivered in the form of a very sensual joined bath for the lovers and the leers the two exchanged over Teddy’s head were making even Harry blush at times. The green eyed wizard liked how his two most favorite people got along so well. The immortal and the werewolf’s son. It was so odd and so like something that could normally happen in Harry’s life. At some point Harry hoped that he could introduce Methos to the magical world. But it was too soon and there were laws that even Harry would not cross. The Statue of secrecy was one of them and no matter his fame he knew which lines not to cross. Plus, Harry liked that he was the ‘normal’ one in this relationship.

* * *

 

Teddy was back to Hogwarts and the couple were back into a normal pace around the house. Harry was busy with the shop again and Methos was doing things that had to do with his job as a Watcher when that phone call came. It had been a month since Joe had spoken to this immortal and it seemed that there was trouble.

“What is it?” Harry was almost afraid to ask.

Methos’ face was grave. “Seems that Kalas' escaped from prison.”

Harry paled.

“But he’s MacLeod’s problem. I’ve got a bigger one. I told you about Don, right? His wife Christine knew about his job as a Watcher, consequently about Immortals too. Her perfect revenge against this killer and all Immortals in general seems to be exposing the secret of The Immortals and The Watchers. She plans on going public with this.”

Harry now felt faint. “How? Nobody’s going to believe her!”

Methos shrugged. “Joe is flying over. He wants to talk to her and he thought I should be there.”

“I-That’s too dangerous.”

“She can’t hurt me, Harry.”

The wizard shook his head. This woman seemed like trouble and Harry hated that his lover had to be involved in this.

“Just be careful.”

“Always am.”

* * *

 

Harry saw Methos a few times the next days. It seemed the situation had been much more serious than he had originally thought. Harry knew how much secrecy helped the existence of secret communities; after all he belonged in one. The wizard understood the danger if the world found out that some people just could not age and unless beheaded they could live on forever. The jealousy and fear would be the end of immortals. Harry considered stepping in and Obliviating the woman that had pretty much threatened his lover but the impulsive teen he was years ago had hardened after the losses of the war. Harry would watch and only if things were too out of hand would he step in.

* * *

 

Adam cursed when MacLeod stepped up and got the bullet that Joe intended for Christine. He saw the look on Joe’s face; he was angry and relieved at the same time. Adam would have done it, he had killed for less. But the idea of going to jail and thus having to flee from Paris and France in general did not appeal to him. Plus Harry would kill him if he did anything to jeopardize their relationship.

“We are so screwed,” Joe sighed.

Methos looked to the Highlander’s reviving body. “I’ll think of something.”

“You’ll think of something? It was that blasted database that got us in this mess! Your blasted database I might add!”

“And I always clean up my messes.”

* * *

 

Harry was holding the front fort of the shop on his own that morning, Mirka had called in sick. Fifi was back in the kitchen working her magic. Then the door opened and the Scottish man that had come into the shop nearly a month ago was there. This time a beautiful woman was with him. She had the same hair he did, the same set of age old eyes. They were both laughing at something; their mirth though did not reach those old eyes. The woman took a seat in one of the front tables while the man came to order.

“Good morning! Welcome back,” Harry greeted.

“Good morning,” the man said. “You remembered me?”

“How often do I get to meet a Scottish man in Paris?”

The man chuckled.

“So, what is your order?”

“Two double espressos, one tiramisu and a pavlova.”

“Duncan,” the woman appeared at the Scottish man’s side.

“Amanda,” Duncan was startled.

“The mille-feuilles look amazing,” Amanda hinted.

“You want a mille-feuille instead of tiramisu?”

“Both,” the woman stated.

“Your figure can certainly take it,” Harry complimented.

“Why thank you!” Amanda gushed. Then she swatted Duncan on the upper arm, hard.

“I just danced with you on the Eiffel tower!” Duncan told her, looking betrayed.

“But he just complemented my figure,” Amanda stated. “Want to share a cappuccino with me?”

Duncan shot Harry an incredulous look.

“I’m not giving you free coffee,” Harry stated.

Amanda chuckled. “Pity. All the cute ones are taken.”

Duncan had a bewildered look on his face but Harry just dipped his head at Amanda.

“Your order will be right up,” Harry told them.

“Thank you,” the woman grinned. “Duncan, your treat.”

Duncan rolled his eyes at this and took out his wallet.

* * *

 

Even Joe noticed how jumpy Methos was behaving. Since before their meeting with the local head of the Watcher’s Council the immortal posing as a Watcher was acting a bit off. Finally the grey haired man got tired of the immortal’s tapping foot.

“Will you knock it off?”

Methos blinked. “Sorry, I’m just worried.”

“We all are. Apparently our troubles are not over with Christine’s death; now Kalas has the database,” Joe muttered.

“That’s what worries me. He’s got information on every Watcher and every immortal out there.”

“Even you?”

Methos shook his head. “No. But that does not make me feel any safer.”

“Still, MacLeod is his primary target.”

“Like he would not happily behead me given the chance,” Methos said in a snarky tone.

Joe snorted but did not argue. “Where are you going now?”

“Damage control,” Methos replied.

“Not like that will help any.”

“I’ve been around for millennia. I’ve got knowledge that people only dream of. I can shed light in historical mysteries, show people the truth.”

“People are known to kill the messenger that offers a new version of the truth,” Joe told the immortal.

Methos gave him a mischievous smirk. “Who said anything about the truth?”

He saw Joe groan.

* * *

 

Harry was dead on his feet that day. When he crawled in bed next to his lover though his fatigue was replaced by wariness.

“Something bad happened,” Harry stated.

“Depends on your point of view,” Methos sighed. He turned on his side and he was now facing Harry. “Christine was found dead this morning in the editor’s office she went to.”

“That’s good, right?” Harry asked. He paused for a beat. “Did you do it?”

“Someone else got there before me. She and the editor dead, stabbed to death.”

“And the database?” Harry asked.

“Missing,” Methos said with a frown. “And it drives me crazy not knowing who has it. Is it the watchers or is it Kalas?”

Harry snuggled closer. “Want my help?” he offered.

“Thanks love, but it’s my mess.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry whispered. “Now hug me.”

“Yes sir!”

Harry grinned and settled in his lover’s warm embrace.

* * *

 

The next morning a call from Joe had Methos in an even worse mood.

“Apparently Kalas has the database. MacLeod is tracking him down,” he told Harry.

The wizard pushed a mug of steaming hot coffee towards Methos. “Are you thinking of getting out of Paris?”

“I would leave the planet if I could. The fall out is going to be huge. Kalas is blackmailing everyone. The watchers are after his head as well as MacLeod’s. It’s just a matter of who will find him first. Amanda already faced Kalas once and had to run from it, he was too strong for her.”

“Amanda?” Harry repeated.

“MacLeod’s lover, friend. She’s a sneaky one.”

“I’ve heard that name before, in my shop.”

“She’s about my height, black hair, and fair skin. Followed by a tall, long haired Highlander,” Methos described.

“Is MacLeod’s name Duncan?”

“Yes.”

“I know both of them; they came to the shop the other day.”

Methos smiled over his mug of coffee. “Small world.”

Harry hummed in agreement. “So, what’s the deadline Kalas gave you?”

“Midnight, tonight.”

* * *

 

Harry kept glancing out of the shop, towards the Eiffel tower. Mika was getting frustrated with him.

“Is there something wrong?” the young woman asked.

“So many things…”

“If you need to go I can close the store. Fifi’s here to help.”

Harry hesitated only for a moment. MacLeod was fighting that Kalas character in a few hours. He knew that Methos would stay to see who the winner was before he acted. And Harry wanted to be there. If Kalas won, someone had to inform the magical world about the leak that would take place. If nothing else they could contact the Muggle governments in an effort to minimize the damage.

 “Thanks Mika. I owe you one.”

“How about a raise?”

“Good one!” Harry smirked at her before taking his coat and leaving his store.

* * *

 

Methos stood with Joe and Amanda under the Eiffel tower when the first roar of thunder reached them. They were all avoiding looking at each other. They dared not hope for the best, they only feared for the worst. The two men pretended they did not see Amanda’s pale face and shaking hands. Their eyes were glued to the top.

“Adam?”

The three turned to the source of the voice.

“Harry?” the immortal said incredulously because Methos had certainly not expected that his lover would show up. If Kalas won and Harry was there… That thought alone made his blood run cold. Methos took the younger man by the arms. “What are you doing here? It’s too dangerous!”

“Right back at you,” Harry fumed. “How do you expect me to learn the outcome of this? When they find the decapitated bodies. On the news?”

Methos winced. “I apologize then. I’m sorry I worried you.” He drew Harry in his strong arms and hugged him tightly. He was about to suggest that Harry should leave but thunder tore the sky in two striking the top of the Eiffel tower.

“It’s started,” Joe said but his voice was drowned by the roar of a second lightning bolt tearing the sky apart.

After that lightening another and one more lightening tore the sky apart. The huge metal tower attracted the electricity but even the tower could not handle the large load. Lightning bolts hit nearby cars, phone poles, the tower was soon encased in darkness.

Harry watched mesmerized at the power that gathered around them. He could feel it crawling over his skin. His magic was reacting to it, Harry could sense this. This power surge, this Quickening as Methos had called the power released with an immortal’s death was magical, primal in its force, but indisputably magical.

“I don’t see him. Where is he? Can you feel him?” Amanda asked. Usually Immortals could somehow tell when one of them was killed nearby or survived, especially when they knew that someone.

Methos swallowed as he could not tell which one was alive, Duncan or Kalas.

Then the lights returned to the Eiffel tower and the warmth that Harry felt from the Resurrection Stone left him. The three were quiet, waiting. Only when Duncan MacLeod came walking toward them, looking haggard and tired yet with energy humming within him; an energy that only Harry could feel. Amanda hurried towards the Highlander and drew the man for a soft kiss, for reassurance more than anything else. Methos then felt Harry relax in his arms. A pang of regret seized him at how worried his lover had been over this, but also a warmth at how much the younger man cared for him to even be worried.

There were no words spoken, only smiles, as they walked away from the area towards their cars.

* * *

 

Harry had not expected to be invited but Amanda and Duncan seemed adamant. The Highlander was looking better now, after a clean shower and a new outfit. There was champagne and a pleasant atmosphere in the barge that MacLeod had redecorated and made into a wonderful, floating house. As they toasted to various things before settling on toasting to MacLeod, Harry tested the presence of the three immortals. He could somehow feel them, not quite like ‘The Buzz’ Methos had described to him but something entirely different.

“So, mister shop keeper, is Adam your special someone?” Amanda asked the mortal.

Harry nodded. “Yes, he became special to me.”

“He has a way of weaseling his way in people’s lives,” Duncan commented.

Harry turned to his lover and gave him a peck on the lips. He would have done more but he did not want to make anyone uncomfortable.

“Awe! So sweet!” Amanda crowed in delight.

“Amanda!” Methos and Duncan said together, the oldest immortal in existence being red in the face.

“You know about Immortals,” Joe said then.

Harry sipped more of the very fine alcohol. “He was worried when that Kalas character killed someone while looking for him. He drove me crazy for days! I finally got it out of Adam after I cornered him. It was a pretty easy thing to do.”

“Did you withhold sex?” Amanda asked.

“Amanda!” all the men except Harry called out.

The wizard laughed, thinking how he liked this immortal. She was so much like Luna with a more Slytherin attitude.

“I’ll tell you later. How about chocolate and some coffee at my shop tomorrow?” Harry offered.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” the woman told him.

Without wanting to, Methos and Duncan shuddered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Methos felt lazy that morning and he acted like it. With Kalas dead, only two Immortals knowing he was an Immortal and not just a Watcher and both of them no longer in Paris, Methos felt much more relaxed and it showed. However his lover was exasperated at this.

“Methos…” Harry whined.

“Mmm.”

“I really need to change the sheets.”

Harry received no reply.

“Come on! It’s noon!”

The Immortal snuggled further under the blanket with his pillow.

“Methos!” Harry yelled. “Get up this instance or I’m showering you with a bucket of ice!”

His lover peeked from under the covers. “You know, there is another way.”

Harry blinked. Before he could react Methos pulled him on the bed and started snagging off Harry’s clothes.

“What the-?”

“Shut up and kiss me will you?” the Immortal whispered.

Harry was more than happy to comply.

* * *

 

 

“And this?”

Methos studied the jade green vase with the pink and white chrysanthemums. “If I recall correctly, about 1380 or so, Ming dynasty.”

Harry whistled in appreciation. “That one?” He pointed at a piece of pottery about his height, in rich reds and whites, with phoenixes flying over the surface.

“One of my favorites. I think I acquired it during the Han period. I cannot recall who ruled at the time though, the Eastern or Western Dynasty.”

The younger man nodded. “This one with the cute fish?”

“They are carp fish, also Ming Dynasty.”

Harry gave him a bewildered look. “You are kind of amazing.”

“Only kind of?” Methos smiled at him.

“Wouldn’t want to give you a big head,” Harry replied.

“I-”

“Don’t even think of following that with a dirty joke.”

Methos shook his head. “I wasn’t going to!”

“I’ll let this one slide,” Harry allowed. “I’m still impressed at how many things you managed to gather.”

“Five thousand years,” Methos sing-sang.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, mister ancient, I have yet to forget.”

“Yes, I managed to save quite a few things. Had I known, I would have saved many. That vase over there? We used it to pee at night.”

“Not the kind of details I wanted to know,” Harry said with a grimace. “This museum is not fun anymore.”

“Want to see the garden?”

“Why the garden?”

“Lots of make out spots,” Methos stated.

Harry grinned.

 

* * *

 

Methos grinned when Joe called him to tell him that he was now officially the new researcher for tracking down Methos, it was Don Salzer’s old position. The Immortal missed the other bookworm but he had long ago gotten used to death and the ways mortals left this life. He was preparing to celebrate with Harry when for the first time he suddenly realized that his lover was a mortal and that like all mortals he would not be around forever or as long as forever was for Immortals.

 

* * *

 

 

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

Methos considered his lover. Harry looked worn out lately. He was starting to lose weight and he barely had time for any quality time to spend with him. Even Harry recognized it as a problem. The shop was a big hit and Harry had to hire two more people to help Mirka and Fifi, but still he worried over every little detail.

“You need a vacation,” Methos told him.

Harry cracked his left eye open. “You don’t say?”

Methos chuckled. “Careful Harry, you’re starting to sound as sarcastic as me.”

“The shock! The horror!”

“Yes, you need time to relax.”

“I don’t have time. The shop…”

“Runs perfectly well without you hovering over everyone. Mirka is a smart girl and that pastry chef of yours is amazing. By the way I have yet to meet her.”

Harry grunted.

“So, what do you say?” Methos asked.

“Holiday, huh?”

“Yes. Wherever you want. Do you want Italy? Spain? China? Ivory coast?”

Harry sighed. He would love a break. Traveling around the world sounded amazing.

“Maybe,” he told Methos.

“Okay, whenever you are ready.”

* * *

 

 

Being Adam Pierson had advantages and Methos milked his new position for all he could. Knowing the location of most Immortals around the world was his best protection, his best weapon and the perfect pastime. It was also a way to keep track of MacLeod and that thief friend of his, Amanda. But when he found that a dangerous Immortal, one Kristin Gilles, had recently turned up in Seacouver, Methos grew worried. That woman was a danger to everyone around her and from the Watcher Chronicles he knew that MacLeod had at one point known her. He was eyeing the phone when an idea got into his head.

“It has merit,” he said to himself.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Harry said from the door of the library.

“Hm? Yes, no.”

“Yes or no?”

“Harry, is your passport valid?”

* * *

 

 

Harry had never been on a plane before and had told Methos so. The immortal had made him sit by the window so he could see the view as the plane took off. Harry found the experience very different from any form of magical travel but the unpleasantness of the noise was certainly a bit of a turn off for Harry. As were the long hours and the cramped space. And Methos was not helping any with his comments and suggestive leering. Harry had to put his foot down when the immortal suggested they snuck in the loo for a quickie. Harry because the bump he gave his lover healed almost immediately.

* * *

 

 

Methos left MacLeod’s apartment and dojo feeling a bit frustrated about the Highlander’s gallant attitude towards that immortal bitch. Methos had not yet had the unpleasant fate of meeting her but rumors traveled. Even Kristin’s Watchers at one point or another grew tired of watching her kill off women younger than her and mortal. He was in a foul mood when he met up with Harry in the hotel room they had rented.

“Methos?” Harry asked. He was on the bed; one of Methos’ chronicles open in his lap.

The immortal climbed on the bed and gave him a kiss on his lips. “Hey.”

“You look worn out,” Harry observed.

Methos slowly crawled towards him and laid his head on Harry’s stomach. The green eyed man immediately burrowed his fingers in his lover’s thick hair.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Methos sighed. “What are you reading?”

“Your adventures in China,” Harry replied.

“Which time?”

“Thirteen fifty four.”

“That was a boring visit.”

Harry chuckled as he closed the book. “Can I help you?”

“Just keep doing that with your fingers.”

“Okay.”

* * *

 

 

The next time Methos went to see Duncan Harry tagged along. Methos had explained his plan to Harry but the younger man had not been happy. Harry let them have their little tumble with the swords and only made himself known when the fight was over. Duncan had been happy to see him again and he had given Methos an incredulous look when Harry had not been watching.

“There’s wine and beer upstairs,” he told them. He led the way to the elevator and the other two followed.

* * *

 

 

Harry enjoyed his stay in Seacouver. If he excluded the threat Kristin posed to Duncan’s protégé, it was an amazing holiday. Methos and Duncan knew the best spots in town, the galleries, the theaters. But what Harry liked even more were the rainy spells that reminded him of his home country. One such day he and Methos had been invited to see the house the Scottish man was renovating and somehow started helping the long haired immortal paint the house.

“ _I guess that this must be what it’s like to have kids_ ,” Methos commented while he painted the beam that held the roof over the porch.

“ _You think so_?” Duncan asked.

“ _Yes. You do your best; teach them what you know_ …”

_(Extract from the series)_

“And what? Make the same idiotic mistakes you did?” the highlander queried.

 “You gave him warning,” Harry told him, never taking eyes off his task.

“Duncan sugar coated the story he had with that … woman,” Methos butted in. “He should have told the full truth.”

Harry winced. “Yes well, some things are hard to remember.”

“Stop defending him Harry,” his lover commented. “He should have killed her when he had the chance. But he has that blasted idea of what chivalry is, or should be.”

“A killer is a killer,” Harry agreed. “Whoever said women were harmless or weak …”

“A couple of medieval writers,” Methos butted in again.

Harry snorted.

Methos and MacLeod went at it a while longer.

“Will you knock it off?” Harry said when he was fed up with the arguing and the barbs each immortal gave the other on their ages. “Duncan, Methos is right, the fittest survives. This woman has had too many chances. What if she kills Richie? Would you let her live then?”

“Would you take the life of someone you knew? Went to bed with?” Duncan asked.

“Yes to the first, hasn’t happened yet to the second,” Harry responded, making both immortals stare at him.

“Harry?” Methos asked.

“I killed the man who killed my parents,” Harry explained, never meeting his lover’s eyes. “It was him or me. And I’m glad I’m the one surviving.”

* * *

 

 

Methos could not get Harry’s words out of his mind even as the couple crawled in bed that night. In the darkness of the room that statement weighed even heavier on the immortal’s chest.

“Say it.”

“Harry…”

“Say it.”

“How? Why?”

“Tom Riddle, that was his name. He was a true genius but also very cruel. So evil... If you think Kalas and his machinations were bad he was worse. Tom had a following that slowly built an organization of terrorists. Not many knew the threat they posed, not many could fight back. My parents did. They died too early. Teddy’s parents were killed by them as well. The same day I finally managed to get Tom. I even got a medal for it. For my bravery and selfless actions they said. I say it was because the man I killed just happened to be a monster bad enough that his killer could be considered a saint and a hero.”

Methos took Harry in his arms and held him close, no more words needed between them.

* * *

 

 

Harry was in the hotel when he felt the change in the air. The wizard froze as the same energy he had felt in Paris once again tickled his senses. It was far from his location, in fact the lightening was not even visible when the green eyed man looked out of the window, but the energy was now familiar much like the feel of his own magic.

“Another Quickening,” Harry whispered. He hoped the defeated was not any immortal he was familiar with. But what had Harry even more worried was the fact that he could feel his magic reaction to this power surge. He needed to start looking into this but he had no idea where to start from. He loathed going to Hermione about this. He thought that he could start snooping around on his own and if he got stuck then he would include his friend. Making up his mind Harry started planning a visit to the nearest magical library.

* * *

 

 

A few days after Methos took Kristin Gilles’ head, he and his lover started discussing whether to go back to France, stay in Seacouver or travel to a different place. One day they visited Joe Dawson’s bar when they met one waitress, Alexa Bond. Harry grew attached to the girl and he was sad to hear from Joe that she had only a few months to live.

“That’s sad,” Harry told Methos later.

“That girl?”

“Yes.”

“Humans are so fragile,” the immortal commented.

“Yes, we are.”

Methos swallowed hard at that. For the first time he realized that Harry was not an immortal. He would not be around forever.

 

* * *

 

 

“We should visit Egypt,” Harry told his lover one morning.

“Really?” Methos asked.

“Yes. I haven’t been there in a while…”

“Me either,” the immortal commented.

* * *

 

 

“Egypt?” Duncan MacLeod asked.

“The land of Pharaohs and pyramids,” Methos grinned.

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. Harry made the reservations.”

“And your work mister watcher?” the Highlander reminded him.

“Did you know that Methos was said to have spent a lot of time in the court of Pharaoh Djer?”

Harry gave him a sarcastic look. “You don’t say?”

Methos chose to ignore his partner’s snarky attitude. “Yes.”

“Are there really any clues or treasures left there? Mementos even?”

“I remember I stashed them somewhere,” the immortal admitted.

Duncan snorted. “Have fun.”

“Oh, we will.” A wicked smirk appeared on Methos’ face.

* * *

 

 

When the heat hit them in the face both men knew that they had finally reached their destination. The weather was unbearable and Harry had to use wandless cooling charms on himself and his lover just in case. Harry had booked them a place to stay in the village where the curse-breakers that worked for Gringotts occupied with their families. The wizards and witches staying there did not use magic blatantly as the residual magic from the nearby sights and monuments was very volatile. Because of this Muggle’s were welcomed in the village and Methos would not be the odd one out during this visit.

* * *

 

 

Returning to the land he was born millennia ago gave the immortal an eerie feeling every time. The sands surrounding them, the ancient monuments, the cloudless sky, the scorching heat, the smell of the deserts. Distant memories of a childhood long ago passed. A family he could not even remember save for the survival lessons he had gotten from them.

“Love?” Harry’s voice reached him, shaking him out of his reverie.

The green eyed man had led him to a small house with a small door. It was white like most houses in this place and the inside was much cooler. It made the immortal sigh in relief at the change in temperature.

“This is so much better.”

“I know,” Harry replied. “Are you sure you have not regretted agreeing to this. I hear Cairo has many wonderful hotels…”

“But this is right in the Valley of Death, right next to the Valley of Kings. I heard there was a new site the archeologists worked on. I didn’t know you were among them.”

“I’m not a relic hunter or anything like that,” Harry replied. “My best friend’s older brother is sort of a tomb raider. He mostly helps open the tombs and record things. The rest is up to the local authorities. I came here a while ago. I had just graduated from school and traveled around a bit. Egypt was my first stop. Bill let me stay for about a year. Then his wife got pregnant for a second time and they left for Britain. I went back to Europe too, Russia.”

“That’s from one extreme to another,” Methos commented.

“I know. But a great adventure.”

“How about we put our things away?”

“How about a shower?” Harry offered.

“Together?”

“Is there any other way?”

Methos smirked and stalked after him.

* * *

 

 

Harry stared at the wall of the pyramid, his eyes following the hieroglyphs with reverence. This new tomb was amazing really. The wizard suddenly frowned, stumbling across an unknown symbol. He looked for the guide only to see him a few paces away.

“Adam?” he called out.

“What?”

“What does it say here? Not the whole passage, just this symbol.”

The immortal squinted his eyes. “Really? A love story?”

“It is?”

“Apparently this guy had a thing for the priest at Osiris’ temple.”

“No way!” Harry laughed. “Wait, don’t tell me. I want to read for myself. Just translate this one.”

“Okay. But you better hurry and read that part over there?”

“Is that….?”

“Yes, an Egyptian version of the Kama Sutra,” Methos replied.

Harry choked. Trust his lover to find something perverted even in an archeological site.

* * *

 

 

They were in bed that day. They had been in Egypt for a week and every day they visited the nearby sights. Just the day before they had reached what turned out to be an ancient village and Harry noticed that his immortal lover had been brooding since then. Harry was willing to bet that that place had some kind of significance for the man.

“Did you remember something?” Harry carefully asked that same night. The tavern they were in was like somewhat stuck in the 1900’s, to the immortal at least. The people in there were from the village and not many of them were up this late.

Methos shook his head. “Just… flashes. This place holds no memories. The sands already drowned the places I went to. But this familiarity… It feels weird.”

“Say, did you have family in Egypt?”

“I think I had a wife from one of the nomadic tribes but now it’s all blurry.”

“You weren’t always a gentlemen’s man?” Harry teased.

The immortal snorted. “Not really. Up until 250 B.C. I was only a ladies man. I even had a harem once. But then came the Greek philosophers. Socrates -or was it Aristotle- I met them both by the way, had one very good looking student, Alcibiades. And that guy was something else. Smart, cunning, devious, immoral, handsome, rich…”

“You’re first man?” Harry asked.

Methos rubbed his temples. “Probably, maybe.”

“You don’t remember,” Harry surmised.

“It was during an orgy,” Methos admitted. “And after lots and lots of wine. Never mind the fact that it has been two millennia since then.”

Harry threw him a look. “You’ve been to an orgy?”

“Kind of hard not to during those centuries. Then came the Middle Ages and took away all the fun,” Methos complained. “Most immortals have done almost everything. Except those goodie two shoes like MacLeod. He wouldn’t know what to do with a harem.”

Harry was silent for a few minutes before an idea came to him. “Say, how many women in your largest harem?”

“I don’t remember, but over a hundred for certain,” the immortal responded.

The wizard was pensive again.

“Harry?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Of long dead people? No. But my opinion of you being a pervert is cemented.”

“What?!”

Harry just smiled at his lover and patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, I still love you.”

Methos choked. “You love me?”

The green eyed man blinked. Had he really said that out loud? He saw the smile on Methos’ face. He had.

The immortal took Harry’s hand in his and gave it a soft kiss. “I’m honored.”

“Honored?” the wizard asked.

Methos gave him a radiant smile. “Yes. And by the way Harry, I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

The Library of Alexandria stood tall, imposing and unchanging even after millennia. Harry ignored the surrounding Muggle’s and slipped inside the building. He had written ahead and the scholars had already prepared a booklist for him to research through. Harry barely spent a thought to how amazed Hermione would be if she ever visited this place or how giddy Methos would be if he saw the Library intact. Harry just sat down and started reading. If there was an answer as to why he could feel the Quickening’s this was the most likely place to be.

* * *

 

 

Methos noticed that while in Alexandria Harry seemed to be quite busy. He would leave him alone for hours at a time and disappear. The immortal had not asked even though Harry’s excuse (‘I’m meeting a few acquaintances of mine’) was not very convincing. He it slip though because apparently whatever it was it had to be serious as Harry was a bit pensive the four days they spent in the city. He could only hope that Harry would tell him when he was ready.

* * *

 

 

 “No!”

“But Harry…”

“No.”

“It could be fun.”

Harry’s glare could melt ice. But Methos was not deterred. He really wanted this and he was willing to put his all in this.

“I am not putting myself in danger just because you want to be spontaneous.”

“Just imagine though. You. Me. only water between us. The stars shedding their light on us. It will be worth it…” Methos whispered in Harry’s ear seductively.

“I’m not going skinny dipping in the Nile!” Harry declared before stomping away.

Methos pouted but it soon disappeared when he focused his gaze on Harry’s backside.

“I can work with a tub too,” he said to himself as he sauntered after his lover.

* * *

 

 

Methos closed the phone with a sigh.

“I know that frown,” Harry commented. “It’s your ominous face.”

The immortal snorted. “I have an ominous face?”

“Depends. Was it good news you just got?”

“It was Joe,” Methos shrugged.

“What mess did Duncan land himself into this time?”

Methos smiled at Harry’s exasperation.

“He was helping a friend…”

“Figures,” the wizard cut in. Harry was now intimately aware with how Duncan acted and thought. The immortal had an even worse case hero-syndrome than Harry did. And he picked up more strays than Hagrid did pets. One of these days the Highlander would be in danger of losing his head and Methos often complained to Harry about this. The wizard just smiled and thought it was about time the five thousand year old immortal had a friend.

“…and he somehow got a Dark Quickening,” Methos finished without any details and as though his lover had not cut in with a sarcastic remark.

“So…”

“I need to help him recover. He already nearly killed Richie.”

Harry frowned. “But isn’t he a danger to you as well?”

“I’m no hero Harry. And I am proud to say that I can run pretty well when I need to,” Methos stated. “If I don’t help him now, I don’t know who will. But the Watchers won’t stay idle for long. They usually hunt down immortals that turn psychotic. MacLeod, he doesn’t deserve that.”

And Harry could only nod in agreement.

* * *

 

 

Tracking down an immortal was hard work, as Harry learned when he followed Methos back to Europe. The only lead they had was that Duncan MacLeod had left Seacouver and not much else to follow. There was not even a body trail. Even after MacLeod took Jim Koltec’s head he had not killed another. They spent their time in Paris, in Harry’s house. The wizard would go to his shop to see how things were doing while Methos tried to find their wayward friend. Until one morning.

“He’s in Le Havre, in France,” Methos told Harry. “Apparently his ship docked a few hours ago. He made contact with Sean Burns, an immortal. Apparently they’re old friends from the War.”

“Impressive contacts,” Harry mused.

“Not really, and I’m a favor short,” Methos grouched. He grabbed his coat.

Harry followed after him. “I’m coming with you.”

Methos paused and took his lover from the shoulders, meeting his eyes. The immortal’s face was grave. “Harry please, it’s not safe. Duncan is not that same idiot nice guy you met a while ago. Dark Quickening’s are a nasty business. Promise me you won’t interfere.”

“Methos…”

“Promise!”

Harry swallowed his fear that something might go wrong with his lover and nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,” Methos’ voice was low and almost dangerous.

“I promise I won’t follow and that I won’t interfere.”

* * *

 

 

Methos watched with horrified fascination when Duncan took Sean’s head. The Quickening that followed was less violent than he expected but long all the same. Methos tried to avoid it but some of the power entered his body as well, making him tremble. His only thoughts when he was about to confront MacLeod was that he wanted to survive this ordeal. He hated making Harry worry.

* * *

 

 

When the phone rang Harry picked it up immediately.

“Hello?”

“ _Harry_?”

“Methos! Thank gods! How are you? Where are you? What about Duncan?”

_“Harry, I’m fine, really, but Sean is dead. And Duncan… I lost him but one of the Watchers said he was seen in Paris. He’s back at his barge. I’m coming to Paris as well._ ”

Harry swallowed. “Okay. Just… be careful.”

“ _I will. And Harry?_ ”

“Yes?”

“ _I want a favor to ask of you_.”

“What is it?”

“ _I want you to research something and make a call. Can you do that?”_

“Just tell me what you want,” Harry replied with determination. At the same time he conjured paper and a pen and started taking notes.

* * *

 

 

Methos was hidden close to Darius’ chapel. It was a long shot but he was willing to try. When MacLeod arrived, the oldest immortal alive thanked his luck for this. He slipped inside the church and saw the Scottish man almost lost to guilt and pain. The picture he made niggled at Methos’ memories. Before entering the chapel Methos had decided to take the man’s head, but now, seeing this, he changed his mind. As he stepped up to help he mentally prayed to his gods that Duncan listened to him. When MacLeod gave his sword to him Methos started hoping.

* * *

 

 

When Methos pulled Duncan out of the pool in that abbey (“The spring had been lost since the 7th century and was a bitch to find,” Harry had grouched over the phone), he could not help the relieved laugh that escaped him. He had lived many years but still some things made him wonder. The water was still sparkling and shining with ethereal colors even as it dripped off the Highlander till it settled again.

“So, magical spring?” Duncan mused.

“It was a long shot, but it worked,” Methos admitted. “There are records of this from the Watchers but that file was…”

“Before you start rambling,” Duncan cut him off. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

 

 

Harry had been surprised to see the Scottish woman in the barge but no more than Rachel was at seeing him. The two started tidying up the mess the place was in, talking as they worked. That was how the wizard learned that Rachel’s last name was MacLeod. She was from the same place Duncan came from (Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel). She tells Harry about her mistaking Duncan for a grave robber and the mess that followed. When he hears nothing of immortals and the like Harry realizes she knows nothing about who Duncan truly is though she apparently suspects that something is up.

“He’s a good man,” Harry told her.

“He is,” she admits with a smile on her face.

* * *

 

 

Methos enjoys seeing MacLeod tongue-tied over Rachel when they enter the barge. He meets Harry’s eyes and sees amusement reflected in them.

“We’ll be going then,” he announces. “We still need to visit Athens.”

“Adam, wait,” the Highlander says. He pauses. “You and Harry. I…”

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is soft. “It’s okay.”

“No big deal,” Methos adds while giving Duncan a pat on the arm.

* * *

 

 

Outside the barge Harry turned to Methos and gave him a thorough and hard kiss. When he released him, the immortal staggered.

“Okay, I deserved that,” Methos admitted. “And a few more so get cracking.”

Harry shook his head, a smile on his face. “Athens?” he asked.

“If you like. Our visit in Egypt got interrupted but we have time and money and Athens is closer.”

“And then?” Harry asked.

“Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of that.”

 

**_tbc..._ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Methos leaned back on the car seat, watching the scenery as the car sped by. There was nothing but green as they crossed the Scottish countryside. The radio was on and his lover was humming the tune along with the band. He had said the ride would not be long after they landed at the airport in Inverness.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Harry asked after the song ended.

“Why?”

Harry kept his eyes on the road as he shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been quiet during the ride.”

“I’ve yet to get used to cars,” the immortal admitted.

“Really?” Harry asked. “I would have thought you would be grateful for the technological advancement.”

“Not really. I liked horse riding,” Methos admitted.

“When was the last time you rode a horse?” Harry asked.

“The nineteenth century,” was the quick reply. “First time I got into a car we crashed. Do you have any idea what a feat that was?”

Harry chuckled. “I get it, you hate car rides.”

“Yes. But I’m also nervous.”

“But Teddy likes you,” Harry told him.

“I’m worried about the rest of the family,” Methos replied.

“Andromeda is a sweetheart,” defended Harry.

“Mothers never really like me, mother figures included.”

Harry chuckled. “Relax. It’s not Andy you need to worry about.”

“That sounded ominous,” Methos commented.

Harry just smiled.

 

**o**

 

“Isn’t that Aldourie Castle?” Methos asked with wonder.

“Yes, our neighbors. Funny thing is that our castle is bigger older. One architect saw Duibhin Castle he liked it so much that he decided to make a bigger one around the 1600’s. You’ll be able to see our home for the next few weeks right about… Now.”

Methos sucked in a deep breath. Duibhin Castle was beautiful. It lay near the river bank, secluded among trees. It looked like Aldourie Castle (or perhaps Aldourie looked similar) but where it was all light colors Duibhin was made of dark stone. It looked smaller but also older.

“Welcome to the house that sheltered fourteen generations of the Black family, from 1557 till 1780. After that the family stopped using it as their primary residence in favor of Black Manor that is situated somewhere in Wales.”

“Harry, exactly how rich are the Blacks?”

“Too rich for their own good,” Harry replied. “Also there are not many left.”

“Their? Aren’t you a Black?”

“Me? Not originally. My grandmother was a Black,” he admitted. “And my godfather became head of the family around the 1990’s; he was the one that gave me his name and with it the titles. So now I’m a Black too, though I don’t feel like one. Teddy’s father was a Lupin, his mother was a Tonks and her mother, Andromeda, was a Black but was disowned ‘cause she married ‘beneath her station’,” Harry explained as he pulled in the narrow path that led to the castle.

“They don’t sound like nice people,” Methos frowned.

“Most of them weren’t,” Harry agreed.

 

**o**

 

The moment they stepped out of the car a real live missile crashed into them.

“Harry! Adam! Harry!” Teddy kept chanting as he tried to hug both men at the same time.

“Theodore, darling, let poor Harry get his bearings, he almost keeled over,” Andromeda said from the doorway.

Methos studied the woman. She had the air of a true lady of high society and reminded the Immortal of aristocrats from the Renaissance. She was elegant, richly dressed, stern and doting at the same time. She would be a tough one to impress and it only made Methos want to try harder.

 

**o**

 

The rooms the couple would share were impressive and reminded the immortal of his rooms when he used to play Pharaoh in his early immortal years. The mahogany made furniture with the richly colored silken fabrics. There were two predominant colors in this place, black and green. On every surface available was engraved the Family crest, **_a shield with greyhounds rampant charged with a chevron, 2 five-pointed stars and a short sword. In the formal language of heraldry, it is: "Sable, a chevron between two mullets in chief and a sword in base, argent” (extract from the Harry Potter Lexicon, from the section on the Black Family)._** The motto of the family was what drew Methos’ interest most.

“Toujours pur,” ** _(Forever Pure)_** the immortal read. “A curious choice.”

“They were a curious bunch,” Harry responded. “Now come on. I want to give you the short tour. We can explore this place later, okay?”

“Sure.”

 

**o**

 

Duibhin Castle was more impressive up close. There were many rooms in the place and he and Harry had fun hiding in several alcoves and making out like a pair of teenagers. The whole castle screamed ‘old money’. The painting on the walls went back centuries and when Methos paid them more than a fleeting glance he had thought that a couple of them had winked or waved at him. It had made the immortal question just how tired he was. Methos chose not to tell Harry about this, nor about how the various owls he had spotted flying around the property, in broad daylight of all times, had seemed to study him.

 

**o**

 

Harry had not known how much he missed being back in Britain and back to the castle that had become home ever since Andromeda and Teddy had chosen this place to live in. Duibhin Castle was a home to the green eyed wizard, much like Hogwarts had been, like that house in France had become. Bringing Methos here, it was a big step for Harry. He had never brought another lover here. The reasons for this were not lost on Harry. The wizard would love to tell Methos about the secret that was ruling his life. He would love to introduce Methos to his world. He would love for the immortal to become Harry’s true partner in the eyes of Magical and Muggle law.

 

**o**

 

Methos realized soon that Andromeda Black (she had shed her late husband’s last name after Teddy came into her care) was a formidable woman. One day the immortal came down for breakfast and only the woman was present. It was during his third day staying there.

“Mr. Pierson,” Andromeda greeted.

“Mrs. Black.”

“Harry mentioned something very interesting about you.”

Methos nodded. He had expected that Harry would tell this woman. “You know about me.”

“You’re not the first Immortal I had heard of,” the witch replied. “My many times removed grand uncle, Mercury Evangelos Black, was an Immortal. He was adopted into the family after saving the Black Heir of the time. He stayed with the family from 1589 until 1962, when he was finally beheaded. He was an interesting man.”

“What do you really want to tell me?” Methos asked.

“Hurt Harry and I’ll kill you,” Andromeda swore. “And I don’t mean these crazy situations you find yourselves in or even the possibility that one of your enemies might try anything. I’m talking about the miniscule possibility that you might cheat on him, grow tired or…”

“That’s not happening,” Methos stated with conviction.

“How can you be sure?” Andromeda demanded.

“Harry… He’s a gem. I’ve been around for millennia. People like Harry are rare. I would have never noticed him otherwise. I still don’t know exactly what drew me to him. Harry is… Harry. And I want him for as long as he wants me. And even if he does find another to love, I’ll be there to support him and protect him.”

Andromeda allowed a small nod. “Have some bread. It’s freshly baked. You’re too thin.”

Methos blinked. Later, Harry explained that it was Andromeda’s way of saying she liked him.

 

**o**

 

Harry’s laughter escaped him when his lover managed to catch up with him. They had been walking in the maze of rose bushes and hedges in the garden near the yellow tea room (Harry had snickered when he told Methos and the immortal had also given him an amused look). Somehow they ended up chasing each other in the maze. The penalty for being caught was not much of an incentive so Harry got caught a number of times and the immortal did not once call on him.

 

**o**

 

Teddy was the sweetest boy Methos had met by far. He might never have had any offspring but in his long life he had had wives with children from previous marriages or even children they had had with lovers and tried to foist on him. So he knew that eleven year olds were not supposed to be so smart and mature and write in a cursive writing any eighteenth century writer would envy. ‘Theodore’ (as Andromeda loved to call the child) knew some pretty big words, in Latin as well. When the immortal asked the kid, the boy had replied that it was imperative so that he could do well in school.

“And what school is that?” the immortal asked.

“The same Harry went to,” Teddy replied. “And mom and dad. Grandma and grandfather too.”

Methos blinked. “All of them?”

“It’s exclusive,” Teddy told him. “But if you’re good, Harry can take you one day.”

“I can be a good boy,” Methos muttered. “Hey, Ted? Got any tips for me?”

The boy giggled.

 

**o**

 

The green eyed wizard was studying the family tapestry one evening. He held a tumbler of brandy in one hand and he traced the wall with the other. His lover found him like that.

“Harry?”

“…”

Methos closed the door behind him.

“Harry?” he asked again. “What are you doing hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I’m just… thinking.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for that. Is that a tapestry? Wow, woven with silk and real gold too!” the historian in Methos was giddy. “I have not seen something like this in years.”

“The fact that you have seen something similar says a lot,” Harry told him.

“Is that Teddy’s name here? Nymphadora? Yikes! His mother must have had some rough time growing up.” Methos traced the tree further up. “Regulus? Cygnus? Walburga? Phineas?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes, well, the Blacks were an odd family.”

A look of distaste appeared on the immortal’s face. “I agree. Aren’t Cygnus and Walburga cousins?”

The wizard snorted. His hand left the tapestry but Methos saw where he was touching before. Charlus Potter and Dorea Black had had one son, James Potter, who married Lily Evans and thus Harry James Potter-Black was born.

“That’s you.”

Harry nodded.

“Is the date correct?” Methos asked.

The green eyed man drank whatever was left in his glass. “Unfortunately yes.”

“You don’t look like you’re in your early thirties.”

“I know,” Harry whispered before leaving the room.

Methos was left staring at the wall.

 

**o**

 

Something was wrong with Andromeda.

The first sign came when a plate dropped from her fingers one day during lunch. They all brushed it off like it was nothing. Like they did when more plates, glasses and cups had the same fate. The immortal was the first to get suspicious of the abnormality of this but still; he could not quite place it. When the immortal found her leaning on a counter, her whole body shaking, he rushed to her side and tried to help her. Later that night he told Harry about the tremors and the younger man went completely white.

“Nerve damage,” Harry whispered.

Andromeda sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

“How?”

Methos watched the two silently.

“Bellatrix,” the witch responded.

“That fucking bitch,” Harry hissed. His hands were clenching at his sides and while he was still pale, the eyes were sparkling.

“Harry…”

“When?” the youth demanded.

“Before all hell broke loose, she came by the house. She wanted to give me a chance to redeem myself because even a blood traitor like me had pure enough blood to deserve forgiveness; her words. I don’t need to tell you how she followed my denial. Or how they killed Ted a while later.”

Harry closed his eyes. “Fuck. You could not even get treated.”

“No, and Madam Pomfrey was already spread thin,” Andromeda replied. “It may have been a while but I did get an ‘O’ in my N.E.W.T.s. I can whip up the most basic remedies.” She sighed. “I was lucky Harry. I visited Frank and Alice after the attack on them; Augusta was and still is one of my best friends. I am lucky,” she repeated.

“I know,” Harry replied.

“You can hug me silly boy,” the Black witch said then. “I’m not going to break.”

Hearing those words was the last straw for Harry, who was by her feet soon after, hugging her around the waist, his face buried in the curve of her neck.

 

**o**

 

Methos was strolling through the gardens alone the morning after Andromeda’s confession about her illness. The woman had admitted she was dying after that. The medicine she was taking was no longer working and the seizures were getting worse. They could not know how long she had as it depended upon her own body. But every day she came closer to death. And every day Methos saw signs that reminded him of how frail Harry’s life was.

The immortal stopped short. It could so easily be Harry in Andromeda’s position a few decades from now, because Methos could actually imagine spending a human lifetime with the green eyed mortal. But so many diseases could end his life; so many events could cut it short. Methos had never hated immortality more.

 

**o**

 

Harry was staring at his ring. The Resurrection Stone felt cold on his hand, like the touch of death. And it was funny because Harry had never really feared death for himself but he dreaded the death of the people around him.

“I need help,” he whispered in the quiet library. “I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

He closed his eyes only to snap them open when the smell of chocolate and lemons tickled his nostrils.

“When did you start brooding. You’re no fun Harry.”

“Well, my boy, I will have to agree with him Sirius. Lemon drop?”

Harry gasped. “S-Siri? Headmaster?”

The two transparent figures of his long dead godfather and headmaster were beaming at him.

Harry stared down at the ring. “Oh. I almost forgot. I have not been able to summon anyone since that day.”

“Yes,” Sirius nodded. “And by the way, getting hit by a Killing Curse was pretty stupid. And I should know.”

“But brave all the same,” Albus Dumbledore added. “Lily wanted to come you know, James to. But Remus felt they were not the best choice for this occasion. Perhaps some other time.”

The green eyed wizard swallowed the tears that wanted to fall. “Andy is dying.”

“Is she? She’s a strong one that girl. And brave for a Slytherin. Andromeda won’t go down without a fight,” Sirius commented. “Not when she has you and Teddy to coddle. “Did you ever imagine that something so cute and not clumsy could come from Moony and my cousin?”

“Now, now Sirius, Nymphadora was not that bad.”

The two pale forms started bantering between them, often involving Harry, who gradually relaxed.

 

**o**

 

They had gone grocery shopping one morning, Harry, Methos and Teddy. They would be cooking for Andromeda that evening. They had not expected trouble but as was Harry’s fate, trouble found them anyway in the form of another immortal. The man, a tall guy that carried a broadsword. Harry had been by the car while Teddy and his lover went in the grocery store pestering the kind woman that ran the place with all kinds of questions. The wizard had heard his lover describe that ‘vibe’ he felt whenever another immortal was near. It was also three days since the night the two ghosts visited Harry and the Resurrection Stone started burning on his hand while his body shivered. Then the other immortal came in the parking lot, sword drawn.

“Prepare to die!” he told Harry.

The wizard only had time to duck.

 

**o**

 

“And this?”

“Ginger root.”

“Looks like a gnome.”

“I thought gnomes had tall, ridiculously colored hats and decorated front lawns.”

“Of course not! They stay in the gardens and chase away Wither Fairies! Luna said so.”

“You lost me.”

“Pff, I’m just too smart for you.”

Methos chuckled and ruffled Teddy’s hair, much to the teen’s dismay.

“Relax, there are no girls to impress here,” the immortal told the boy when he continued fussing with his hair. “Does your grandma like cauliflower?”

“No, she prefers broccoli,” Teddy replied. “Harry does as well. But then again he likes green beans and sprouts. Yuck!”

“You are a riot. Oh! Mushrooms!”

“What are we making?”

“Some kind of pie. I’ll just prepare the ingredients; Harry does not let me cook.”

Teddy grinned. “You are like Victoire’s dad. He never says no to his wife either.”

Methos choked. “Harry’s not my wife!”

“Yet,” the kid replied.

The immortal blinked. Could it be that Teddy did not really mind?

“You really think so?” Methos asked the boy.

“Well, he lets you kiss him, and sleep in his bed and even makes you muffins! He likes you. Also, I heard Gran tell her friends that she might just drag you to the druid herself.”

Methos stopped short. “Druid?”

Teddy beamed. “Yup!”

“You really are pagans?”

“Yup!”

“Huh,” the immortal was rather surprised. Sure, they had celebrated Yule together but he had not thought Harry’s family to really, truly practice the traditions.

They were headed to the counter when another immortal came across his senses. Methos almost dropped the basket. As it was he really wanted to run. Seeing Teddy walking next to him, babbling, he cringed. The sword was in the car, with Harry, while he and the child were exposed. He sent glances around, not seeing anyone suspicious.

 

**o**

 

Harry rolled away, dodging the second and third attack as well, before he was close enough to Methos’ sword. He easily grabbed the handle and blocked the next strike. His mind was working a mile a minute. This guy, this immortal, had obviously sensed his lover but for some reason could not tell whether Harry was mortal or immortal. And by the brutality of the attack the guy did not care much either. The wizard grunted while blocking another hit. Then he went on the offensive, strike after jab after strike, he was fending his opponent off. The Gryffindor was trying to think of the best way to neutralize him without killing him. Immortals were still humans and Harry had met his killing quota when he took down Voldemort. But this guy was making it difficult; he was really aiming to kill.

The green eyed man narrowly avoided some very close calls, but there were grazes on his face and neck. It was too damn close for Harry’s comfort. Survival instinct kicked in and the next hit was blocked by Harry’s magic that rose to shield the wizard.

“What the…?”

Harry was on the offensive again. A nice swipe, a kick to the stomach and the immortal was down. Another strike and the man’s sword was sent away.

“There can be only one, right?” the immortal looked up.

The wizard clutched the sword tighter. He had seen the consequences a beheading would have; the parking lot would be messed up. The man, another human would be dead. And Methos and Teddy would be safe.

But then the Resurrection Stone pulsed.

The immortal gasped, hands rising to his heart.

Harry’s hands rose on their own and soon the sword came down.

Thunder and lightning tore the skies apart, striking everywhere and anywhere they could. A storm of electricity and energy surrounded Harry, bringing the wizard to his knees. Then the energy darted towards him, swirling over him before tearing into him. Everything was on fire. Pain much like the Cruciatus hit his body. He was being destroyed and pulled together at the same time. Death and rebirth, and Harry in the middle.

And then it stopped.

 

**o**

 

When Methos saw the Quickening, his heart jumped to his throat. The people in the store were looking outside, panicked.

“That can’t be a normal storm,” Teddy said from his side.

“It isn’t,” the immortal replied. “Teddy, can you please stay here?”

The young wizard threw him a look and then he nodded. “Okay.”

 

**o**

 

Heavy rain was pouring down from the sky. It had darkened to almost black but at least the thunder had stopped.

The immortal ignored the chilling rain. He raced to the parking lot. Every car was either smoking or still on fire. Some of the asphalt had melted. He came across a beheaded body first. The sheer amount of relief he felt when he did not recognize the clothes and then the head was staggering. He just rushed to the next fallen figure. Harry was lying on his back, knees bent. From his limp fingers hung Methos’ sword. The ground under and around the raven haired man was still smoking.

“Harry!” Methos called out. He fell on his knees beside his lover. He made to gather him in his arms but the doctor training he had received a lifetime ago kicked in. He reached for a pulse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**_12 May, 1291_ **

**_My Last will and Testament, by Ignotus Peverell_ **

**_“And as I leave this world to pursue my next and greater adventure I cannot help but think of the years we could have spent together._ **

**_My only regret is that I will not see you leave for Hogwarts, grow into a man, never meet your children._ **

**_But I take comfort in the future. For as long as the one male of my line holds the Cloak of Invisibility, Death will not haunt you._ **

**_Live happy, live strong. And tell our offspring of this pact. Do not try to gather the Hallows as they only have one true Master._ **

**_I know what they will write “The last Enemy to be conquered is Death”. But I see Death not as an enemy but a companion. And this way I will meet him._ **

**_When the time comes, the Hallows will meet again, and Death’s plan will…”_ **

* * *

 

Methos closed the leather bound book that was made of scraps of parchment strung together. It contained the Wills of the Peverell family. The immortal had checked the last letter as well, surprised to see it was written in 1780, by a man named Henri Cadmus Potter.

“How is he?”

The immortal looked at the boy who was shyly standing outside the room.

Methos put the book on the nightstand and patted the mattress next to him.

Teddy did not need further invitation. He rushed forward, climbing on the bed carefully to avoid waking his godfather.

“He’s still sleeping?” the boy asked.

“Yes. Whatever Andromeda gave him has allowed him to sleep,” the immortal whispered.

Teddy nodded.

“Is she still downstairs with that woman?”

“Madam Pomfrey?” the young wizard asked. “Sure. But Mrs. Weasley finally left.”

Methos sighed. “Good. Are you going to sleep?”

Teddy shook his head. His eyes were pinned on his unconscious godfather.

“You could get under the covers and sleep here,” Methos offered.

“I… really?”

“Go get changed and say good night to Andromeda. Then you can come back here,” the immortal told him.

The boy gave him his first real smile since the day Harry got hurt.

* * *

**_The symbol of the Deathly Hallows consists of_ **

**_One vertical line representing the Elder Wand;_ **

**_A Circle representing the Resurrection Stone;_ **

**_And a Triangle as the Cloak of Invisibility_ ** _._

* * *

 

“Jo, I really need that information,” Methos demanded from the other Watcher.

From the other side of the Atlantic all he got was a negative response.

_“Forget it. The Watcher Headquarters has started asking questions. You upped and left without telling them!”_

“It was important!”

_“I know that! But they don’t and you know they don’t care either.”_

Methos felt the urge to hurl the phone across the room.

“ _Is your man safe now?”_

The immortal closed his eyes, the pain he felt affecting him physically. “He won’t wake,” he admitted softly.

_“I’m sorry.”_

“…”

“ _Listen, ‘Adam’. I cannot promise anything, but I will try and track down the book you wanted. Chances are that it’s in France, in the main library.”_

“I… Thanks Jo. I’ll owe you one.”

* * *

 

**_The Deathly Hallows, supposedly created by Death, were given to each of three brothers in the Peverell family._ **

**_The Elder Wand, a wand considered undefeatable was given to Antioch;_ **

**_The Resurrection Stone, a stone which could summon the spirits of the long dead was given to Cadmus;_ **

**_And the Cloak of Invisibility that renders the user invisible even from Death, was given to Ignotus._ **

* * *

 

Andromeda met the immortal before he left.

The sun had barely risen on the horizon.

“I’m not running away,” were the first words out of Methos’ mouth.

“I never thought you were,” Andromeda told him. “I have eyes. I’ve seen you hold him, counting his breaths in the night.”

“He is not waking up and I have to do something.”

“I know and understand this. Will you explain to me?”

“Has Harry mentioned what I am?”

“You are human.”

“And I cannot die. At least not permanently.”

“Well, that’s one thing you boys have in common. Harry cannot die either.”

Methos met her eyes.

“He died when he was sixteen months old, only for a second. And he died again when he was seventeen or so. Both times he survived.”

The immortal was left staring at her.

Andromeda stepped closer. “I saw your notes. This artifact you are after…”

“Methuselah’s Gift,” Methos supplied.

“That,” the witch nodded. “The Blacks are an old family.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“The Potter’s even more so,” Andromeda ignored the man’s burst of anger. “You’ve seen the books Harry was studying in his free time.”

“Tales of Beedle the Bard,” Methos replied. “Quite grim for a fairytale.”

“All myths have an ounce of truth in them,” the witch continued.

Methos caught on fast. “They’re real? The stories are real?”

“Some of them, yes. For example, the three Peverell brothers are certainly not fictional. Ignotus Peverell is buried in the same cemetery as Harry’s parents. Since 1291.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Stay.”

* * *

 

**_According to legend,_ **

**_He who possesses these three artifacts_ **

**_Will become the Master of Death._ **

* * *

 

 “I have to do something.”

“Five millennia and you still have not learned faith?”

Methos sighed. “I do not believe in gods. No god ever intervened where I was concerned.”

“There is one power though that has helped Harry. And apparently your kind is not exempt.”

The immortal processed the words.

“Are you suggesting…”

“Yes. Now come inside. I have put the kettle on. You can make me breakfast.”

“I…”

“One week,” Andromeda cut him off. “Wait for one more week. If Harry does not wake then, I will buy you the ticket to Paris.” She turned around, already going back to the house.

Methos called out her name. “Why a week though?”

The witch gave him a glance over her shoulder. “Because that’s when All Hallows Eve is,” she replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
> \-------  
> A/N: Okay, I just realized that Halloween is in October (Naturally so no jokes please) and Teddy is at home during that period when he’s already a Hogwarts student. Meaning, my timeline was way off. Now I’m not about to go back and rewrite the previous chapters because it would be inconvenient for the story line. So, for the sake of the story, let’s say Teddy visited home during weekends and since Harry got hurt he took time off school to stay with Andromeda and Methos, ok?   
> Beta’s Bit I am truly amazed that even I never twigged the problem and can I add that due to Harry’s standing in the wizarding community he is given great leeway with his Teddy.  
> Now on to the actual story ^_^

He was at King’s Cross again, Harry realized with a start.

The train was parked at the station, engines dead. There were two people there, sitting on benches and looking at what looked like a chess board, arguing. He could vaguely see shapes and the voices were so familiar. Harry walked closer and the fogginess cleared, making the wizard blink. The view was so bizarre that Harry could not help but chuckle. The sound drew their attention. Dumbledore and Sirius stood, looking both sheepish and happy to see him.

Harry walked closer and after a beat hugged both men, tears falling from his eyes.

 

**o**

 

They were seated at the bench again. Albus (he had asked Harry to be called by his first name) had asked Harry to a game of chess. The green eyed man had protested, unwilling to get creamed; getting beaten by Ron on a regular basis was bad enough, dead people winning against him now would scar him for sure. Sirius kept cheering Harry from the sidelines for all ten minutes the game lasted.

“Told you so,” Harry said to Albus with a pout.

“Thank you all the same my boy,” the blue eyed wizard told him.

 

**o**

 

“Why am I here?” Harry asked. He did not know why the question had not spilled from his lips earlier.

Sirius gave him a roguish grin. It made Harry feel like some joke was being played on him.

Albus on the other hand gave him a sort of sad smile and pointedly looked at the ring on Harry’s finger.

“You are clothed this time around and even carrying things with you,” Albus told Harry. He shot one last look at the ring before averting his eyes. Harry caught the regret and sorrow in them.

“I thought you had moved on from whatever this place is,” Harry told the two men.

“We did pup,” Sirius replied. “We sorely missed you and when the opportunity presented itself…”

“I did not do some heroic act this time around. I really was minding my own business; I was shopping groceries for Mordred’s sake!” Harry complained.

“And lightning struck?” Albus knowingly inquired.

Harry glared, before sullenly replying, “Quite literally.”

 

**o**

 

They were in one of the compartments, each of the wizards regaling stories of their youth concerning the Hogwarts express when Harry asked Albus about the Tale of The Three Brothers. The old man steered him to a bench and Sirius with a long groan joined them.

“No one is really sure,” Albus began, “What really being a Master of Death entails.”

“I have Ignotus Peverell’s journal. His son, grandson and so forth all added small titbits into the book. Only one of the Peverell’s tried to gather all three Deathly Hallows and the rest stopped him. Something about tampering with powers beyond them,” Harry mused out loud.

Albus gave a short nod. “One must not strive to collect all three Hallows or else the greed will distort their powers. Death is only blinded by the cloak and even that has its exceptions. It is not chance that the owners of the Death Stick and the Resurrection Stone live short lives and die in violent ways. Those two objects have the most greedy and malicious feeling following their history; and Death knows and plays on that to collect those souls.”

Harry gave an absent nod. “But what about me? What does being Master of Death mean to me?”

Albus looked a bit pained.

“Apparently it literally means you can command when and how you die? Well, at least I think so.”

“Well, there have been people unable to die, Muggle’s most of them,” Sirius mused. “They’re called Immortals. The Blacks were patrons to one of those guys for saving one of ours. He died before my time though.”

“Andromeda mentioned that at one point after she met Methos,” Harry recalled.

“Ah, your new beau?” Sirius teased.

“Lover,” Harry corrected. “What century do you live in?”

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed.

Albus chuckled at them. “The famed Oldest Immortal?”

Harry smiled. “Same one! There were a couple of references on him in the Library of Alexandria and another one in the Library of the Louvre. And nowhere could I find what being Immortal is all about. I mean, Methos explained the Game and everything but not how Immortals came to be, or why.”

“Because Death was bored,” Sirius replied. He shrugged at the looks the other two threw at him. “What? Guys and gals carrying swords and trying to kill each other? That’s a sport alright. Does the Coliseum ring any bells? Yup, Death’s doing all along.”

Albus smiled at Sirius. “In a way, your godfather is correct. You are involved with an Immortal so perhaps… Yes… Yes… it has merit…”

“Um, sir? Albus? Can you share with the rest of us?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I believe… You mentioned you could actually feel the energy Immortals got from one another?”

“The Quickening, yes,” Harry replied.

“Just like they can feel it?” Albus asked.

Harry nodded.

“And the Stone can absorb it?”

“Yes. And the time I cut that guys head it absorbed all of it, not just some like the other times,” Harry told Albus.

“It sounds like the Stone is giving you the senses of Immortals,” Sirius commented.

Albus studied Harry. “Not just the senses.”

Godfather and Godson looked at Albus.

“What are you saying?” Sirius demanded.

Harry groaned. “Just my luck, right?”

“Harry, you are alive yet you have not aged, not a day since…”

“I know,” the green eyed wizard cut him off. He had been pained to realize that all his friends had grown up, looked mature and in their thirties while Harry still got asked for his identification in some clubs.

“Cheer up,” Sirius told him. “Living is not so bad is it?”

“I cannot watch my friends die,” Harry told him.

“That was what Nicolas told me once,” Albus admitted.

“And, how did he manage for six centuries?” Harry asked.

“You could ask him yourself…” Albus hinted.

“He’s alive?”

Albus smiled.

 

**o**

 

“I want to go home,” Harry groaned. He was sick and tired of being at the train station. This time around he could vaguely see shadows of people coming and going. Only Albus and Sirius were with him, almost tangible and able to speak to him and be seen by him. Harry had been trying to will himself back in his body but it would not work.

“Patience my boy,” Albus told him. “You could not see the shapes the first time, could you?”

Harry shook his head.

“All Hallows Eve approaches,” Sirius informed Harry. “The barrier is thinning. The two worlds are coming closer. You will be able to go back then.”

Harry sighed and nodded.

“Chess?” Albus offered to Harry.

Harry quirked his head. “How about Poker?”

Sirius let a loud whoop escape him and Albus looked interested.

 

**o**

 

Harry felt a shiver. The whole station was thrumming with power. The shapes were almost see through now but he could see their body shapes, faces even. Only a while ago a little girl had skipped by him.”

“Dragon Pox,” Sirius said with regret. “It does not happen often but it is not unheard of for children to have huge fevers and die despite the Healers doing everything to help out.”

“This means that All Hallows Eve is upon us,” Albus mused. He eyed Harry over his half moon glasses. “You know what to do lad.”

“I do?” Harry blinked.

“Board the train, ask for the Conductor,” Albus told him. “Go on.”

Harry shrugged. There had been no conductor the last time he had looked all over the train but he was not about to doubt Albus. So he did as he was told. He found the Conductor, something that almost gave him a start.

“Hello Harry.”

The wizard blinked.

“Ignotus Peverell?”

The man smiled.

 

**o**

 

Harry was left spluttering for a while.

Ignotus let him. “Back to Life, Harry?”

“I… Yes! How… I mean…”

“Death was not my enemy, my descendant,” Ignotus offered. He tapped his conductor’s hat, straightened his red uniform. “When you know the boss you can get a better job, hence my being able to help the souls cross over. Now, Life?”

“Yes.”

“We have some time now,” Ignotus told him. “And I can clear some things up for you, if you like.”

“I’d be grateful,” Harry admitted.

 

**o**

 

“So, you’re the Master of the Hallows? Master of Death?”

“Just don’t insult my height,” Harry told Ignotus.

“I’m half a head taller than you, not much to brag about. Still, what age were you when you died?”

“Seventeen.”

Ignotus grimaced. “Yes, okay, that is bad.”

“Will I ever age?”

“No,” Ignotus told Harry. “You will never age. You will not scar again. Limbs will re-grow. You will not get sick. All those things normal mortals suffer from will not be any trouble for you. You are an Immortal, even if the ring gets stolen from you, even if you lose the Death Stick, even if you pass on the Invisibility Cloak, you are still Immortal. The Hallows have been gathered under one man, ‘You’, and all the mystical properties are manifested in you. Should another mortal try they won’t succeed. Death only allowed his final gift for one of you. The race was won by you.”

“I was not aware it was a race.”

“That’s the reason why you won kid.”

“But what about the other Immortals?”

“Death’s whim, really, your godfather can be smart when he wants to be, all the Blacks can.”

“Do I have the same handicaps they do?”

“No, you don’t,” Ignotus answered. “You can have kids despite being hit by the Killing curse. The Immortality Death bestowed upon you makes no difference. And beheadings are not the way to end you. You cannot truly interfere with the game though. That immortal you killed, it was self defence. Unless you actively seek anyone down, then you’ll be okay. If they come at you first fight them to the death, theirs that is.”

Harry swallowed. The idea of killing people left him with a sour taste in his mouth. He nodded his assent to show he understood.

“And that energy from the Quickening?” Harry asked. “Why am I absorbing it?”

“It goes straight into the Hallows, giving them energy and in return powering up the Station.”

Harry blinked. “This station right here?”

Ignotus smiled. “This is your view of the Station. Others have an entirely different idea what it looks like. Ancient Greeks had the river Styx. Rowing a boat is not easy.” At Harry’s incredulous look he elaborated. “Death’s realm is outside of time. Yes, Ancient Greek mythologies were long before my time but after my death that did not matter one bit. You will be interested to know that my sons and grandkids also serve under Death, your father too. The Potters had always been Death’s favourites. It was why Death allowed your mother to complete that life–for–life ritual that saved your life that Halloween.”

“That’s…interesting.”

“Did I overwhelm you?”

“A little bit,” Harry admitted.

“It does not matter,” Ignotus told him. “We’re here.”

Harry blinked. For outside the window he could see Duibhin Castle.

“This is your stop Harry,” Ignotus told him. “Welcome back to life.” He opened the door for Harry to step out.

The green eyed wizard stopped short. “Will I see you again?”

Ignotus smiled. “I never quite mastered the art of divination.”

“Am I imagining things again?” Harry persisted. “Last time I thought I did. I spoke to my friends and they told me I probably imagined everything.”

“One way to find out,” Ignotus Peverell told him, gently pushing him out the door and away from the train.

 

**o**

 

Harry Potter sat up in bed, blinking his eyes open. He came face to face with his godson Teddy. The kid took one look at him, grinned and ran out of the room, yelling up a storm.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Teddy was worried.

His godfather, who was also his cousin, his brother, his best friend, his father figure, was comatose. That was what he had overheard Madam Pomfrey telling his grandmother. He had refused to go back to Hogwarts once the weekend was over. He had raised hell before Andromeda gave in and allowed him to stay home.

Every day, after he woke up he went up to Harry’s room and chattered on and on about the letters he got from his friends at Hogwarts, about everyday life in Duibhin Castle now that he was not with them, about anything and everything really, desperate for some connection with the sleeping green eyed man. He had seen the looks his Gran Andromeda and Madam Pomfrey gave his godfather. The first day he had not been breathing when Methos found him and they had almost delivered him to St. Mungo’s and started for a funeral when his grandma held everyone back and recalled that Harry had been dead before. They had decided to wait. It was a testament to how right she was that the body started looking more full of life the closer they got to All Hallows Eve and for the last week his pulse and colour had returned, making Harry look as if he were merely sleeping.

Today was no different. Teddy was in the room, a letter for Victoire clutched in his hand. He had so much to tell to Harry. But then he saw his godfather’s body moving, those green eyes opening and coming to rest on him. The letter fluttered from Teddy’s limp hand to the ground and the child rushed out of the room to alert the rest of the family.

“Gran! Methos! Gran!” Teddy screamed.

 

**o**

 

“Gran! Methos! Gran!”

The immortal and the witch were in the kitchen with the immortal cooking a small lunch for the family. She felt how tense Methos was, like a spring ready to snap. Andromeda stuck close to him, offering silent support and enough of a distraction to keep the immortal mentally healthy. The time frame Andromeda had given, All Hallows Eve was that very night, and the witch wanted her word to turn out true, she wanted Harry to wake up soon. All the suspense was bad for her frail nerves. And then Teddy came down the stairs like a herd of rampaging Thestral’s, making enough noise to rouse the dead.

“Theodore Tonks!” Andromeda yelled. “Will you please settle down?”

“Harry… up… now!” the child panted.

Methos and Andromeda both faced him.

“Repeat that slowly child,” Andromeda pleaded.

Teddy nodded, a huge smile splitting his face in half.

“Harry’s awake!” he announced importantly, like it as the only thing that mattered.

And it was. For the past two weeks the only thing that mattered to them was that Harry should be waking up.

 

**o**

 

Methos had not dared to hope, or that was what his logical, cynical side wanted him to believe, because deep down he almost went grey with worry. After centuries of wandering alone across the globe he had found one person, one man, with whom he wanted to spend a mortal lifetime with and it almost slipped right through his fingers. He hated staying idle. The fact that Andromeda had managed to make him stick around the castle long enough for Halloween to arrive was a true miracle. As it was he was starting to snoop around the Watcher Libraries, asking about Methuselah’s Gift and the abilities of those crystals, on the sly from Andromeda of course.

For the two weeks he had been surrounded with people who apparently knew Harry for years. Andromeda kept introducing him as Harry’s lover and companion and the reception he got every single time was positive, in fact it included a hug and kissing on his cheeks. On Molly Weasley’s occasion there was a pat on his cheek too. Molly was the first to arrive after Harry fell comatose. Then her husband came. The two red heads were appearance wise in their fifties. And they had a half a dozen kids and all of them came to visit. The eldest, Bill, worked at a Bank along with his wife. Their two terrors were well distracted by their cousins and teddy. Charlie Weasley and his boyfriend came as well, though they did not stay long. Percy and his husband Oliver and their daughter Fred stayed for two hours both times they visited. George and his wife and two horrors only came once and stayed an entire day. Had the circumstances been different, Methos knew he would have loved that particular jolly read head. The next Weasley, the one to come as often as Molly was Ron and his wife Hermione along with their twins. The pair had apparently been Harry’s childhood friends and housemates in that boarding school Harry had attended and off handedly mentioned on occasion. They had all been an odd bunch, but not odder than Luna Lovegood, the fey like blonde woman that visited without fault every two days along with Madam Pomfrey, the healer that Andromeda had called for Harry. Luna knew who he was the moment she saw him.

But now all that fled from his worried mind.

“Harry’s awake!”

Two important words and Methos was on his feet and running up to Harry’s room.

 

**o**

 

Coming back to life was as uneventful as the last time it happened for Harry. No pain, no thunder, no earth breaking apart. It was also very different than the last time. He was on a warm bed and not a dreary forest. There was no Voldemort in sight whatsoever, no Death Eaters, no threat of war or battle. Harry sat up on his elbows and looked around. He was in his, his and Methos’, room in Duibhin Castle. And the door of said room was almost torn off its hinges as the immortal swept in the room, face gaunt and almost in shock. Teddy was not far behind and Andromeda came last. All three of them stood just inside the threshold, looking at him with worry and relief.

“Harry?” Methos asked.

The wizard offered a wan smile and waved lightly. Then, as if a spell ended, all three people clambered onto the bed and drew Harry up in tight hugs one by one.

Methos took his lips in a hard kiss, releasing him only to take a breath and get tackled by a worried Teddy and finally hugged so tightly he wondered whether a rib was broken by Andromeda.

 

**o**

 

Madam Pomfrey was all smiles, when she was not trying and failing to look stern and angry at her admittedly most favourite student to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts. Harry Potter had given her a lot of grey hairs while he was a student and a ton more after he graduated. He was really accident prone, or rather trouble prone, more so than sweet Neville, the other child she loved and cared like any aunt would. Being called in only to find his body cool to the touch and lifeless had been a blow to her and she had nearly burst into tears, ‘nearly’. After Voldemort’s reign in Hogwarts tears were not easy to come for her, she had toughened up considerably. To be called after two weeks worth of visits and be informed that Harry was awake had her running for the Floo.

Once the medi-witch saw with her own two eyes that Harry was healthy again she started threatening the green eyed wizard till he kissed her on a cheek and said a mischievous ‘I knew you loved me more than you let on’, which made her huff and tut but smile all the same. Then Andromeda offered her a cup of tea or a glass of Giliwater for all her trouble.

“Andy, make that fire-whiskey,” Poppy told the other witch.

Andromeda nodded and led her to the sitting parlour.

 

**o**

 

Harry’s back was propped up with half a dozen pillows. Methos was laid out on the bed atop of the covers, his head in Harry's lap, the wizard's fingers threading through his hair, fingers on occasion grazing his scalp. The fear the five thousand year old man had been living with for the past two weeks had left him worn out, completely raw.

''I think I know what is ... Well not wrong per se, but what happened to me,'' Harry admitted.

Methos turned his neck again so he could look at his lover.

''I want to know.''

''You deserve to know,'' Harry told him. He sighed lightly. ''I think I'm immortal. Not, you know Immortal like you or Duncan, but... Death resistant?''

At first the immortal posing as a Watcher drew a blank. The cynic side of him wanted to scoff at the mere concept, but Methos, the lonely man who was in love with Harry was not about to deny the possibility. He had never sensed Harry as a potential Immortal but he had also held his dead, cold body. He had cried for Harry, nearly lost his head because of him. And now Harry was embracing him again. Methos would keep an open mind.

'You think?'

''Well, I know of a way to prove this...''

''I am not going to kill you,'' Methos hissed back, angry at the mere suggestion. The idea of hurting Harry made him sick to his stomach.

The wizard gave him a fond smile, before pouting teasingly at him. ''Bummer. Here I was, hoping I would not have to commit suicide. I need a knife, or a sword. Can I borrow yours? It's shiny enough.''

Methos shook his head. Harry's pout was enticing, his demand not so much. ''Your... Andromeda said some things...''

Harry slowly nodded, getting serious. ‘‘She mentioned it, yes.''

Methos waited, looking into his lover's face as those impressive green eyes clouded over.

''I cannot be completely honest with you. There are laws, older than this countries Muggle laws...''

'Muggle?' the Immortal mused. ''I have not heard that word in... Centuries. At least since the Inquisition.''

Harry blinked. ''Do you know what it means?''

‘‘It’s about a community, right? Like a secret society?''

Harry slowly nodded. ''Do you believe in the supernatural?''

''I knew a witch doctor once,'' Methos replied. ‘‘And a seer, a true one. The original Pythia was the real deal you know. Granted she was high more often than not but you get my point.''

The wizard was side tracked for a bit. 'You actually knew her? Never mind that, we can go there another time. But yes, a community, a secret society full of people with abilities similar to hers.'

'Poppy is a true healer then? Like those witch doctors?'

Harry slowly nodded.

'Well, she's bossy enough', Methos muttered, making Harry smile. 'What else can you tell me? And what do I need to do to actually know everything?'

'I can tell you plenty of things,' Harry admitted. 'But only vaguely. I will explain about the Hallows though and the Station.'

'The Station?'

'Of Life and Death,' was Harry's response that gathered Methos' full attention.

 

**o**

 

Teddy was a cuddle monster. Despite being in puberty he would crave his godfather's attention. Methos and Andromeda too. The two weeks had been hard on all of them. Harry let them hug him and pet him, understanding their need to reassure themselves that he was really, truly with them and this time he would be staying.

 

**o**

 

Once Harry woke up their friends came by for a visit and Methos was able to see their interaction with his lover. He realized they were classmates [Hermione, Ron and Luna at least] but Harry looked so much younger. It really hit Methos then that Harry had been already immortal when they met and neither of them had known. The thought that Harry felt like the other half he had always wanted was also known to the Immortal. The relief that they would never need to part from death because of old age and disease was a relief to Methos and such luck that the Immortal thanked the deities for the gift they had bestowed to someone as unworthy as him. Or perhaps they were doing this for Harry, a reward and compensation for all the losses in his life. Still, the realisation they had an eternity to enjoy life together, each other, it made Methos delirious with happiness.

**o**

 

Teddy was reluctant to part with Harry after two weeks of the green eyed man being comatose but the third day after Harry awoke Andromeda and Harry managed to get the child to return to Hogwarts with little fuss. The boy was still worried about his godfather and wanted to spend time around the man, to reassure himself that Harry truly was fine and he was not about to really lose another member of his family and the closest thing he had to a parent. The goodbye he had with Harry, Andromeda and Methos was full of tears and promises of spending Yule break together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta’s Bit. The pronunciation of the Irish name Duibhin is more or less equal to Devine


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Harry loved teasing his lover, especially when he had him like this, underneath him, moaning and writhing.

“You evil… Ah! There!” Methos gasped.

The wizard moved his hips again, making the Immortal groan.

“I love this,” Harry admitted. His voice was strained, his body sweaty and struggling to keep this slow. Ever since Harry had woken up the two men had been joined as much as they could and for as long as their bodies allowed. The period the wizard had spent unconscious had made the two lovers that much more determined not to part with each other. Even Andromeda’s teasing comments could not faze them.

Methos’ chest was heaving. He loved it when he had Harry inside of him; when the younger man would touch him like this, love him like this. He was on his side, Harry’s body right behind him, slowly moving and driving him out of his mind. They had been hurried the first time after Harry woke up, but now they were taking their sweet time. It was both torture and pleasure and despite the fact that both men would like to come, dragging it out and seeing who would break first had become their latest goal.

Harry’s fingertips slowly pressed against Methos’ hipbone and then trailed upwards, teasing the man’s skin, then his over sensitive nipples.

“Ah!” Methos gasped as Harry’s mouth bit his already bruised and already healing neck.

“Like that?”

“No matter how many times you do that… It won’t leave a mar-k….Hah… do that again,” Methos demanded and Harry complied, moving his hips slowly and hitting his lover’s prostate again as he slowly but firmly bit the Immortal’s sensitive neck.

“Like this?” Harry asked.

“You… sadist,” Methos panted. In retaliation he moved his body as well, earning a hiss of pleasure from his green eyed lover.

“Got it,” Harry sighed. “No more teasing for today.”

“Good,” Methos muttered. “Now finish this.”

 

**o**

 

“I want answers,” Harry admitted to Methos.

“That dream again?”

Harry sighed.

It was morning and the two lovers were wide awake.

“Yes,” the green eyed wizard sighed.

Methos turned and kissed Harry’s temple. “That professor of yours and your godfather?”

“Hm.”

“They talked about that Flamel guy?”

Harry nodded again.

“Why is he so important?” Methos asked.

“Well, he’s mortal, but he’s over six centuries old.”

That made the Immortal pause. “That’s not possible.”

“Do you know what the Elixir of Life is?”

Methos nodded.

“Ever heard of the Philosopher’s Stone?” Harry asked again.

“No way!” Methos exclaimed.

Harry smiled.

“Got any leagues?” Methos asked, eager.

 

**o**

 

After that it did not take much convincing from Andromeda to have Harry and Methos go out of the house. The witch knew Harry had not been very forthcoming with information about the magical community, but the green eyed wizard had started including his lover. He had explained about the Hallows, he had mentioned several obscure communities, and just a day before Harry had mentioned to Methos that the library of Alexandria still existed, much like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. And when the Immortal did not believe, Harry had presented the man with photos. That had shocked the Immortal.

“You are full of surprises,” Methos had commented.

Harry had grinned. “I love to surprise you love.”

The Immortal had laughed at that.

“Boys,” Andromeda had muttered fondly.

 

**o**

 

Harry used his Falcon to track down the Flamel’s with information the Goblins had sold him. It had not been easy and it had been expensive but in the end he made it.

“You look ecstatic,” Methos commented during breakfast.

“I found the Flamel’s,” Harry announced.

Andromeda sighed. “I guess you are leaving?”

“They are staying in Italy,” Harry told her. “At Pompeii. And apparently they do not live far from the Zabini’s.”

The witch met Harry’s eyes. “When are you leaving?”

Harry turned to Methos.

“It’s your call,” the Immortal replied.

“As soon as possible,” Harry decided. “I need to get this over with.”

 

**o**

 

Pompeii was not a place Methos ever planned to return to.

While the five thousand year old man had not been at Pompeii during the eruption of Vesuvius, he recalled the thriving city that existed before disaster stuck. He had lost many friends that day; one of them had been Immortal, a high priest at that; in the Temple of Jupiter. The city he was seeing now felt ancient and alive at the same time.

“We turn here,” Harry murmured and Methos, being the designated driver, made the turn.

“Pretty nice villas,” he muttered.

“Look! See that coat of arms on that door?” Harry excitedly pointed.

 Methos stopped the car. “A boar and a falcon?”

“The Zabini summer villa.”

“I think I remember this place from … No way! That was the villa of one of Augustus’ nephews!”

Harry smiled. “They used to go by Gordianus, I think.”

“I knew a guy that went by that name! Or at least I think I did, it has been centuries,” Methos trailed off. “Are they really direct descendants?”

“Yes.”

“How did the house survive?”

“Secret,” Harry replied. “Too bad Blaise Zabini, the current head of the family is in Africa at the moment. Come on, the Flamel’s are supposed to be near.”

They drove for ten more minutes.

“This is it,” Harry announced and Methos parked the car.

 

**o**

 

The house blended with the other houses in the neighbourhood but Harry was not fooled, not by the wards and certainly not by the illusions around it.

“It looks abandoned,” Methos commented.

Harry took his hand in his.

“Look again,” he urged his lover.

The small cottage transformed before Methos’ shocked eyes to an old mansion looking millennia old.

“No way!” the immortal gasped. He turned to Harry.

“I could see this all along,” the wizard replied.

“How?”

“Never mind how,” Harry told him. “Right now I want to do one thing.”

And he walked up to the door and rang the bell.

 

**o**

 

Nicholas and Perenelle had never had their photos taken. Their achievements were the only things that had made the papers. But Harry knew their faces. He had inherited Albus Dumbledore’s work after all and along with it several albums. Nicholas did not look his true age. Instead he appeared to be a forty something year old man, lean built, with long grey hair caught low on his nape, a smile and laugh lines on his face and old eyes that still shone blue. Perenelle was a beauty. She looked to be around her forties, regal, with long, golden haired caught in a braid and dark shimmering eyes.

When the couple opened their door Harry was certain it was them.

“Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel?” He asked.

“Harry Potter Black,” the Alchemist warmly greeted.

“Come on in,” the witch offered. “I made lemonade just yesterday and I think there is still some fig pie.”

Harry and Methos joined the two in their house.

“You do not seem surprised to see me,” Harry commented.

“I… We have been expecting you,” Perenelle admitted and pointed towards a deck of what Harry knew to be Tarot cards used for divination spread on a table just as their hosts led them to the terrace. Harry and Methos accepted the treats their hosts offered.

“We never thanked you,” Nicholas said. “Albus told us how you helped save our Stone.”

“You had no need to,” Harry replied, a blush on his face. “I’m sorry you had to destroy it.”

“Are you familiar with Albus’ favourite phrase?” Perenelle asked.

“Death is but the next great adventure?” Harry replied.

The witch smiled. “Exactly. We still have enough elixir to get us through one more century.”

“And if need arises,” Nicholas added. “I can make another stone. It would take me seven years, not much time really.”

“How did you know we were alive though?” Perenelle asked. “My cards… their results were rather confusing.”

Harry bit his lip. “What do you know about the Tale of the Three Brothers?” Harry asked.

“Enough,” Nicholas admitted. “But you have yet to introduce your friend.”

“Adam Pierson,” the Immortal offered. “But I’m also known as Methos.”

“The oldest man in the world,” Nicholas commented.

Methos nodded.

Perenelle and Nicholas both turned to Harry.

“You are full of surprises,” the older wizard told Harry. “I have not had this much excitement since Albus and I went hunting for Nundu back in the twenties.”

“Nick,” Perenelle warned her husband. “Let’s not start yet another subject, hm? Boys, you are staying for the weekend I hope?”

Harry and Methos nodded.

“Yes Ma’am,” Harry said.

“If you’ll have us,” Methos added.

 

**o**

 

Methos was pleasantly surprised to meet the couple. Six centuries married, the spouses had admitted. In the old days Methos would have scoffed at this, but now, having met Harry, he was a bit envious of them and a bit hopeful. Envious because they had apparently stayed together for so long. Hopeful because now Methos knew that he could have that long with Harry. The green eyed man who had stolen his heart had the gift of immortality. Harry would be alive for as long as he wished to be. But the younger man had doubts. It came from still having living relatives, friend’s family. And Harry was reluctant to outlive them, reluctant and afraid. Methos hoped that this visit would give Harry the answers he wanted and inwardly prayed that Harry would choose to live with him a long, long life.

 

**o**

 

“It is not easy,” Perenelle admitted to Harry.

The two were in the kitchen, preparing lunch.

“We have had our ups and down,” the witch commented. “When we wed, I came from a wealthy, pure-blooded family. Nicholas’ family was even older. There was no feud between our families but no love either. When we eloped, yes, we eloped, it caused a stir. It took ten years for our families to speak to us again.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“It was long ago,” Perenelle commented. “I had six siblings. Two older sisters, two older brothers and a twin brother. They all had kids you know. Thirty five nieces and nephews.”

Harry shuddered. “I don’t have that many but they still drive me crazy.”

Perenelle laughed. “Yes well… Nicholas invented the Stone five years into our marriage. We both drank the Elixir. What we then did not know was the price to pay for it. Because there is always a price Harry.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, dreading the answer.

“I am not sterile,” Perenelle said. “Neither is Nicholas. But the Elixir?” the witch sighed. “I got pregnant ten times. Ten dead children,” the witch admitted. There was pain in her eyes even if her face and voice showed serenity. “I lost each child the moment I entered the eighth month of pregnancy. After the tenth attempt, Nicholas refused to allow this again. He was afraid for me you see. We adopted a kid though, Mariemea she was called. An orphaned Muggleborn. You are familiar with blood adoption Harry?”

“Yes, a bit,” Harry admitted.

“She lived one hundred years,” Perenelle recalled. “Gave us three brilliant grandsons. We buried her though. Just as we buried our own parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, godsons. We stuck around the family for two centuries before the losses finally got to us.”

“How did you deal?” Harry asked, his voice low. “I cannot imagine having to bury them. After all the dangers and the struggle. I feared Voldemort at one point, that I would lose them to him. Now though, now I fear time. And I know that time is one thing I cannot conquer.”

“Wizards and witches live long times,” Perenelle said. “But I understand. Even a century and a half is too little time when it comes to people we know and care about.” The witch stopped chopping carrots and hugged Harry.

The wizard let her.

“There is no answer Harry, no easy way. Live your life to the brim, tell your family and friends that you love them, be there. And more importantly, don’t fear change, it will come, it is inevitable. Live through pain and loss. I was lucky to have Nicholas with me, despite everything we have been through. And from what little I have seen of your man, I believe Methos could be that other half that will help and support you and love you through all the years to come.”

Harry smiled. “You really think so?”

“I’m a romantic Harry,” Perenelle admitted. “Of course I do.”

 

**o**

 

“How? Well, there is no fixed recipe,” Nicholas told Methos.

The two men had tried playing chess but in the end the oldest of the two was simply too distracted to play and finally decided to speak with the wizard.

“Six hundred years of marriage and you have no tips?” Methos asked. “The longest relationship I had was thirty years. Long before I met Harry. It was a woman. I think her name was Danae, but I’m not sure.”

Nicholas shrugged. “No recipe. But… well, you need to be honest. Perenelle is not the only woman I have been with during all my years of marriage. There have been other people, men and women, for both of us. Six hundred years is a long time. But in all honesty, I never loved any of them. I liked the change they offered, their novelty, the adventure, but I never ever loved them. Perenelle is the one for me. She knows it, I know it.”

“Does she know about them?” Methos asked.

“Yes,” Nicholas replied. “No secrets. I respect her that much and she respects me as well. You have to understand Methos, that when the two of us married, it was a soul bond. There literally is not another match out there for either of us. At one point we decided not to see each other for ten years.”

Methos blinked. “Really?”

“It worked too. Each of us travelled around, met people, made friends, had lovers. When that time was up we met again. We both arrived a month early. That happened before we closed four centuries together. We have taken two more breaks but only for three years each time since then.”

Methos looked surprised. “I see.”

“That’s too far into the future for you and Harry though,” Nicholas commented. “Live the present with him. Don’t think about it. Be there for each other, be true to yourself and to Harry. That is all you need.”

“My past,” Methos sighed. “I… I was not always…”

“I know,” Nicholas admitted, earning a shocked look from Methos. “The Four Horsemen, right?”

Methos nodded.

“That was millennia ago, correct?” Nicholas asked.

“But the person, no, the monster I was the… I am ashamed of that time.”

“You need to tell Harry.”

“I cannot.”

“Why?”

Methos looked pained. “I fear that he will …”

“That boy is too in love with you to stop,” Nicholas scoffed.

“You don’t know that.”

“For an old man you can be stupid,” the wizard commented.

“I am a coward Nick,” Methos admitted. “It’s how I’ve lived that long.”

“You better find some courage then when it comes to Harry,” Nicholas warned the oldest Immortal in the world. “Because that boy deserves to be happy. And you deserve it as well, as long as you finally accept who you are and believe it.”

“Boys!” Perenelle called out and the two men formed masks to guard their grave faces.

Harry appeared soon after. “Lunch is ready.”

“We are coming,” Nicholas said as he stood.

Harry approached his lover. “Everything okay?”

Methos kissed Harry’s soft lips.

“I think so,” he told the green eyed man. “You?”

“Perenelle is a great woman.”

“So is her husband,” Methos admitted. He walked with Harry to the dinning room. “Still, I have a question. What was it about that Stone you keep hinting at?”

“It’s a long story,” Harry hurried to tell his lover.

“Your man,” Perenelle smiled at Methos, “Lived a very active life as a student.”

“Really?” Methos perked up.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Harry gasped. “Besides, how much can you know?”

“Albus, bless him,” Nicholas admitted, “Was quite chatty, even in letters.”

Harry blushed.

For the remainder of the day Methos got to hear all about the guard over the Philosopher’s Stone and how his lover at age eleven achieved what many adults before him could not and found the stone.

 

**o**

 

The weekend at Pompeii turned into a week. The Flamel’s had insisted and both Harry and Methos liked the couple too much to deny them. During that week a new bond was formed between the four people and Harry, for the first time since his time at the Station felt light hearted and not afraid or nervous of the long life he had ahead of him. When that week was up the pair returned to Duibhin Castle in better spirits than when they left. Still, they did not have much time to spend there as Adam Pierson was apparently needed again and with one call from Duncan the pair was on a plane to Paris.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“Paris!” Methos hummed as they left the airport.

Harry gave him a small push. “Don’t linger! The bags are heavy you know.”

“Just admiring the view,” Methos replied.

“You are weird,” Harry commented. “Now come on. I need to stop by the store and then the hotel to leave our things.”

Methos hummed his agreement. “Let’s make another stop first?”

Harry blinked.

 

**o**

 

“Duncan’s barge?” Harry exclaimed. “Are you breaking and entering?”

Methos gave his lover a roguish grin.

“Don’t worry about it,” he tried to calm the wizard.

“I cannot help it,” Harry muttered. “We have yet to play with handcuffs yet here you are, ready to tangle that kink with the police.”

The Immortal stopped picking the lock. “You mean that?”

“Please specify?”

“That bit you said about handcuffs,” Methos said.

Harry rolled his eyes and fought the flush on his cheeks.

“Maybe,” he hedged.

“I recall Amanda mentioning she left a pair of handcuffs inside,” Methos commented and with one more nudge he got them into the barge.

 

**o**

 

Harry had many reservations when it came to sex. Methos had none. So they clashed when the Immortal suggested they have sex in Duncan’s floating home, to which they had entered unannounced and uninvited. The wizard also lacked a strong will whenever it came to his lover seducing him.

“Ah! No! Methos! That’s wrong!” Harry protested.

The Immortal smirked and pushed Harry further down the bed, straddling his jean clad hips and slowly unbuckled the belt. Harry’s hands tried to fend Methos’ fingers off, but the man was persistent and Harry’s belt soon fell to the floor.

“Meth-!”

“Sh….” The older man smirked, pressing a finger on Harry’s lips.

The wizard felt like biting the offensive digit (or at least nibbling on it) and by the wicked look on his lover’s face he knew that Methos would not protest to that. Harry was nothing if not stubborn and he was not about to give the Immortal that satisfaction. Methos seemed to realize that soon and he leaned over and seized Harry’s mouth in a brutally slow kiss. He took his time exploring Harry’s mouth, probing with his tongue and making his lover moan. They were lost in each other. Then they felt it.

“Oh! Hell no! Methos you pervert!”

The oldest Immortal pulled back and glared.

“McLeod, you have the worst timing.”

“Get the hell off my bed!”

 

**o**

 

It was awkward, Harry decided. But not unbearably so.

Duncan had been furious to see them on his bed. He had not blamed Harry, just Methos. The two men were at it now, bickering like five year olds, the insults getting lousier by the minute. It was a great show they were putting on and Harry was enjoying seeing the two composed men in that state.

“Duncan?” Harry asked, cutting off the Highlander’s rant. “Can I use your bathroom?”

The man pointed at the appropriate door and Harry stood.

 

**o**

 

“You are so damn childish,” Duncan sighed.

“And you aren’t?” Methos shot back.

“You broke into my house!”

“The lock was not that good.”

“Methos!”

“Duncan.”

“I loathe you.”

“I do too! We’re here for so long and you have not offered us anything!”

 “Drop dead,” Duncan sighed.

“You wish.”

Still, when Harry returned the Highlander had brought out sodas and he and Methos were no longer bickering while Duncan checked his mail.

 

**o**

 

A very interesting discussion started over a wedding invitation of all things.

“I was married once you know,” Methos mused, his hands still around Harry. “Well, come to think of it I was married sixty seven, no sixty eight times.”

Harry choked.

Duncan’s reaction was not any better.

“You had sixty eight wives!?” the Highlander yelled.

“A regular harem,” Harry muttered. He tried not to be jealous of his lover and he nearly managed it. The glare he sent Methos spoke volumes.

“I’ve had harems as well,” Methos reminded Harry. The green eyed man’s glare intensified and Methos coughed, realizing he had taken it too far. “Forget I mentioned it?”

“I almost had,” the wizard muttered. “Still, sixty eight? You better grovel tonight.”

Methos nodded. “I can see that. I don’t mind grovelling. Still, would it make you feel better to know that none of the marriages lasted?”

“Not really,” the green eyed mortal continued glaring Methos.

Duncan snorted. “I wonder why.”

“Gina and Robert de Valicourt?” Harry tried to steer the subject away from his lover’s former wives.

“Yes, husband and wife for centuries,” Duncan replied. “Every hundred years they get married again.”

“That takes a lot of devotion,” Methos commented, his mind on another Immortal couple vacationing in Pompeii. Then his eyes travelled to Harry.

“They must be mad for each other,” Harry mused.

Duncan smiled. “Or as I like to say, gluttons for punishment.”

Methos snorted and Harry shot him a fond look. He knew the man was dying to comment but even the cynical Immortal now did not get as bitter about the matters of the heart and Harry was quite proud of his role in that change in character.

“Methos is supposed to be the cynic here,” Harry commented.

“Hey!” Harry’s lover protested and the wizard kissed the man.

“Sorry, love, but I was only telling the truth.”

Duncan saw them kiss again, this time it was nowhere near a chaste peck on the lips. “Oi! Knock it off! Or get a room.”

Methos broke the kiss. “Can’t,” he replied. “My place is being sold and Harry…? What happened to your place?”

The wizard hummed. “A friend asked to stay. She was in the city and wanted a place to crash. Remember Luna?”

“Vividly,” Methos replied, a grimace on his face. He had met the witch very, very briefly when Harry was dead to the world. That young lady had her head in the clouds like she was permanently high. And she kept confusing the immortal and opposing him, something Methos hated whenever anyone but Harry did.

“Get a hotel room,” Duncan shot back.

“Already made reservations in my name,” Harry responded.

“You are a kept man then Methos?” Duncan teased the older Immortal.

“We cannot stay in any hotel under Adam’s salary,” the oldest Immortal shot back. “And I am not opposed to being a kept man.” he shot a lecherous grin at Harry. “It has its benefits.”

Duncan rolled his eyes.

“So, those people,” Harry said. “What are they like?”

The Scottish man started reminiscing about the couple and narrating how the pair met and wed the first time.

 

**o**

 

Methos was lounging on the hotel bed. He was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair still damp from his shower. The water was still running as Harry was taking his sweet time. Methos did not mind as he was busy with his thoughts. First it was the Flamel’s; then the de Valicourts. Two couples that withstood the passage of time. The Immortal felt it was some kind of sign sent towards him to help him with his relationship with Harry.

“Hey.”

The Immortal looked up. Harry was clad in a towel; another was on his head as the man tried to dry his unruly mane.

“Do you need help?” Methos asked.

Harry did not reply verbally. He just moved towards him and climbed on the bed. Methos started drying his lover’s hair and Harry sagged against him.

“Tired, Harry?”

“A bit,” the wizard admitted.

Methos placed his palm on Harry’s neck and the younger man leaned into his touch.

“How about you rest tonight?”

“You looked pretty horny earlier,” Harry reminded Methos.

“That was then, this is now.”

Harry closed his eyes. “Okay.”

“Wait until I finish drying your head, the last thing you need is to catch a cold,” the doctor in Methos raised his head.

The wizard did not decline.

After his hair was dry Methos took both towels away.

“Get under the covers,” he told Harry.

“You sure are bossy.”

“Thank you.”

The Immortal returned later, slid his robe off and joined Harry in bed. He curled around the younger man.

“Methos?”

“Sleep.”

Harry smiled faintly and hugged him closer.

 

**o**

 

Methos was cursing all the way up to the hotel room and when he entered the suite.

Harry was on the bed, reading, and he looked up with a frown on his face when he heard him.

“Love?” the green eyed man asked. “What happened?”

“MacLeod,” Methos hissed.

Harry sighed and closed the book. “What did he do this time?”

Methos kicked off his shoes. “The Highlander is also dabbling as a marriage counsellor.”

“Mm, you know love,” the wizard sighed. “I think you lost me. How about starting from the beginning, hm?”

“Duncan…”

“Yes, that part I got.”

Methos glared Harry into silence, an action that the wizard found rather sexy.

“Apparently,” the Immortal began, “The de Valicourt’s are having marital problems it seems. Duncan offered to help and that’s when I enter.”

Harry squinted. “Still…”

“I’ll explain,” Methos sighed. “And you better not laugh.”

“I promise nothing.”

 

**0**

 

Harry was leaning against his car. He had parked outside the warehouse Methos and Robert de Valicourt had set as stage for their show. The wizard had met the man. He was all poise and grace, much like most purebloods Harry went to school with. The man though had more talent behind it and a sneaky charm, fitting for the con man he once was and the pirate he had also been. Robert was excited and hopeful about this. Harry wished them both good luck and Methos just pecked his lips and entered the place after Robert.

 

**0**

 

“Sweet boy.”

Methos moved his sword a bit, getting ready for his performance when that comment from Robert de Valicourt caught his attention. They had already gone over the plan and they were making small talk now, waiting for Duncan to come with Robert’s wife.

“What?” Methos asked the other Immortal.

“Your lover,” Robert stated. “He’s a sweet, kind man. Chaste as only mortals can be,” he commented as he stretched.

“Your point?” Methos asked.

The man smiled. “He reminds me of my Gina; all fire and passion and heat,” Robert commented. “Like our first anniversary. She nearly burned down my mansion you know, trying to make a point or another. Good times those. I miss the days we fought over each other’s attention and not about the colour of tablecloths and napkins. And with your help I might just get that flame back.”

Methos wisely held his tongue. He still did not think Immortals who thought sword fighting was foreplay were not all that sane. So he tried to be supportive.

“You really think that?” Methos asked the other man.

“Duncan’s plan was very good,” Robert commented.

The five thousand year old Immortal suppressed a grimace. He still found holes, giant ones, with Duncan’s plan.

“Not this charade! I was talking about Harry,” Methos replied. “Do you really think that the two of us have what it takes for a long term relationship?”

Robert blinked. “Well, yes,” he said.

“Huh,” Methos mused, a happy smile on his face.

 

**0**

 

The plan to bring the de Valicourts together had worked, perhaps a bit too well. And Harry got to hear the more fine details of the deal between Methos and Duncan.

“The barge?” Harry echoed Methos’ words.

“Exactly!” the oldest Immortal said with triumph in his voice. “So, _voila!_ Our new home.”

Harry felt like he had been hit with a _Confundus_ because for a while he just stood there, gaping at his lover.

“You just took the barge?” Harry said once he had his wits back.

The Immortal grinned, looking rather proud. He spread his arms and showed all around him.

“Yes,” Methos confirmed. He jiggled the keys he took out of his pocket earlier to unlock. “Fancy spending the night here? Just the two of us?”

Harry eyed his lover. “You asked for the barge on purpose, didn’t you? Just to anger Duncan?”

Methos smirked.

The green eyed man fought down the curses that wanted to escape his mouth. That was the most childish he had seen Methos act and that included the chocolate eating contest he and Teddy had one day. Andromeda was still angry about that one.

 “You are giving it back to him, right?” the wizard asked.

“Of course! I hate the sea. After I let him stew a bit,” Methos told Harry. “So, how about we try the bed?”

“The couch is fine too,” Harry replied and climbed on his lover who smirked.

“I love how your mind works.”

“Shut up and kiss me, or sing my praises, I can allow that mu… mph.”

Methos pulled Harry closer, deepening the kiss. Then he stopped. “Wait! We forgot the music. Make some atmosphere. Though knowing Duncan there won’t be a decent CD to hear…”

“Love, set your priorities straight, will you?” Harry told him in exasperation and resumed from where they left off.

 

**0**

 

They were bare-chested and all over each other by the time Gina de Valicourt caught them. She was stupefied by the sight for about a second. Then she recognized Methos and all hell broke loose.

“You!” Gina hissed with venom at the mere sight of Methos.

The Immortal’s eyes bugged. He had felt an Immortal approach, yes, but he had figured it was Duncan, not her. He knew she was out for blood, his in fact. He managed to push Harry aside and dove for his sword. Harry was quick to get out from her warpath as well.

“Where’s Duncan?” Gina demanded. “You monster! You killed him too?”

“I can explain!” Methos tried.

“And you! Who are you?” Gina asked Harry.

“Regular human here!” Harry called out when she turned her sword towards him.

The wizard pointed at Methos who finally had his sword at the ready.

“He’s guilty. Well, Duncan as well, he made him do it,” Harry blurted out.

Gina paused. “He did not kill Duncan?”

“I wish!” Methos muttered.

Gina’s eyes narrowed. Her hand did not lower her sword but Harry could tell she was at least willing to talk.

“Start talking you two,” she ordered the men.

Self preservation motivated Methos, who blurted out Duncan’s plan and his and Robert’s involvement in it.

“I was just watching the show,” Harry admitted. “The shortest, least believable fight I’ve ever seen.”

The woman grimaced. “True, Robert was horribly bad. God! I will kill Duncan! To worry me this much! And you!” she pointed her sword at Methos again. “How dare you get involved in this plan! You could have ruined my marriage!”

“Me? I nearly lost me my head! That’s what I get for doing Duncan favours!” Methos protested.

Harry watched them bicker until his eardrums were tired. “Okay!” he called out. “Stop it both of you!”

Methos and Gina turned to him. Harry flushed slightly at how sexy Methos looked all shirtless and ruffled.

“Can you stop ogling each other?” Gina asked.

The bite was gone from her words but Harry realized she had an explosive temper and he better not antagonize her.

“And by the way, who are you?” the woman asked the pair.

“Adam Pierson.”

“Harry Potter,” the wizard said with a small wave.

“And you know I’m Gina de Valicourt. Now Harry? You were saying?”

“Payback,” the wizard replied.

Gina and Methos looked at each other and grinned.

“We are listening,” they said together.

“It goes like this…”

 

**0**

 

“No! No! It was all an act!” the confession tumbled out of Duncan’s lips.

Then Methos popped up, Harry at his side. The couple looked amused. Gina sported a smile on her face as well. That was when Duncan and Robert realized they had been played. Only Duncan had not been amused. Robert on the other hand proved he had a sense of humour. He joined Gina, hugging his love and tipped his head towards Methos and Harry.

“Well played gentlemen,” Robert admitted to them.

The Highlander spluttered. “Well played! Morbidly played more like it!” he turned around and made to run after a rather smug looking Methos. “I really thought she had killed you!”

“Well, served you right!” Methos told him.

“What’s the matter Duncan?” Gina challenged her once suitor. “Where’s your sense of humour. It was a harmless joke.”

Duncan’s face had a grimace. “Ha, ha.”

“Cheer up,” Harry told him. “At least you now learned not to offer marriage advice, right?”

“It worked!” Duncan defended his plan.

“Not with my relationship, which you almost ruined,” the wizard retorted. He then glared at his lover. “And you! Never again take part in his half baked plans!”

“Yes master,” Methos dutifully replied.

“Look at them, like a married couple already,” Robert told Gina, who giggled.

“Say, boys, can you take your shirts off again?” the female Immortal asked, making Robert gasp and Duncan splutter.

“Gina!” Robert and Duncan yelled.

“Maybe another time,” Harry told her, making her giggle in delight.

“We’ll see you at the wedding then Adam, Harry,” Gina said.

“I don’t know,” Methos tried.

“I insist,” Robert said after a look from his wife.

They said their goodbyes and promised to meet again.

 

**0**

 

“Ah! Sweet nectar! Even better than the prank we pulled on Duncan and Robert.”

Harry rolled his eyes and instead focused on the happy couple. Gina and Robert had gotten married again and they looked happy. Methos, Duncan and Harry were the few present in the ceremony that really knew the couple. The rest were mortal friends and business partners. The reception was lavish and everything was organized to perfection. Duncan was flirting with a woman by the band. Methos was his usual caustic self, making smartass comments and commenting on everyone else.

“Hm, will you stop muttering and dance with me?” Harry told him.

Methos sighed, pretending like it was a chore, but he took Harry’s hand in his and pulled the wizard to the large space that mimicked a dance floor. Harry followed him gladly.

“Why is Duncan glaring at you?” Harry asked at some point.

“Recall that broken vase I mentioned?”

“You’re impossible,” the wizard sighed. “Did you at least give him back the barge?”

“I did,” Harry’s lover admitted.

“And you know, Luna left France so we have the house to ourselves.”

“Really?” Methos grinned.

Harry gave him a sly smile.

“Let’s say our goodbyes to Robert and Gina,” Methos decided.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Harry was writing a letter to Teddy, describing his latest week, when Methos entered the room, looking worried. Immediately Harry set the quill down. From the look on his lover’s face he could tell the news was bad. When Duncan entered the sitting room after Methos, bad had just become grave.

“What is it?” he immediately asked the two immortals.

“Remember Jo?” Duncan asked.

Harry nodded slowly. “A Watcher, right? Your Watcher?”

Duncan gave a terse nod.

“He’s been kidnapped,” Methos told Harry. “In broad daylight, right in front of Duncan’s eyes.”

“That’s… how? Why?” the wizard spoke up. “Why would anyone want to kidnap Jo?”

“We don’t know yet,” Methos admitted.

“But I will find out,” Duncan added.

“We,” Methos stressed. “I owe Dawson one.”

A small smile appeared on Duncan’s face before the worry surfaced again.

* * *

 

Harry never got a chance to see exactly what was going on with Jo.

An urgent letter from his home country had him Apparating back to Duibhin Castle after scribbling a hasty note for Methos to find when he returned.

He found Madam Pomfrey already there, along with Augusta Longbottom and Molly Weasley.

“Harry!” the witches exclaimed when they saw him.

“What is it?” the green eyed wizard asked. “I came as soon as I got the letter.”

“It’s Andromeda,” Neville’s grandmother said and Harry feared the worst.

“Don’t say it like that,” Pomfrey scolded Augusta. “Harry, Andromeda is fine now. She just had a very violent seizure earlier this week…”

“A week!” Harry exclaimed. “And I find out now?”

“You know how stubborn Blacks can be,” Poppy told him.

Harry ran a hand over his face. “Can I see her?”

“She’s asleep now, but yes, you can,” the mediwitch told him.

* * *

 

Andromeda’s reaction when she woke to find Harry at her bedside had been exasperation.

“I told those meddling witches not to call you!” she told the green eyed wizard.

“Yes, well, I think they were right to do so,” Harry disagreed.

‘I’m fine now.”

“But imagine how bad you were for them to call me.”

“Harry…”

“I’m staying. I’ve written a note to Methos and I’ll call him again from here. But I’m not leaving you alone. In fact, I need to write one more letter,” Harry decided.

Then Andromeda caught his arm. “Harry. We expected this to happen, we talked about this.”

The younger wizard lowered his head a bit. “We discussed the implications. I do not remember agreeing to let you go without a fight,” he told her.

“Harry, death will be a relief. There is literally nothing you can do,” Andromeda told him. “Not even Phoenix tears can cure me.”

“What about the Elixir of Life?” the wizard challenged.

Andromeda shook her head. “Unless you have a philosopher’s stone…”

“No. but I know the Flamel’s,” Harry told her and with a kiss to her temple he went to contact the people he needed.

* * *

 

Finding Methos had not been easy. Apparently there was a mess in France with the Watchers and the Immortals and a war was about the break out between them.

“ _I’m so happy and glad you are not here right now,”_ Methos told him over the phone. “ _I’m with Jo, in hiding if you can imagine. This is so WW I. I did not miss those days. There were even bullets and guns involved. Jo is grumpy when shot and even worse when he recovers.”_

“Are you safe?” Harry asked worriedly.

“ _I can hide and I run pretty fast,”_ Harry’s lover attempted to reassure the wizard. “ _How is Andromeda? Teddy? What is going on? I saw a note saying you had bad news and you had to leave but nothing more. I was worried.”_

“Andy had a seizure,” Harry told Methos. “Remember Poppy?”

_“Vividly.”_

“She said Andromeda’s not good.”

_“How long?”_

“A month,” Harry sighed.

_“Do you want me there? I can get on the next plane,”_ Methos told him.

“Want you here?” Harry dryly chuckled at that. “Desperately. Do I need you? Yes. But nothing that cannot wait. Jo and Duncan are important too.”

_“It’s you that I care most about.”_

“Stay in France,” the wizard softly sighed again. “I will be fine. Teddy does not know yet. I have to pick him up from school. He should not find out in a letter.”

_“Harry, only a call…”_

“I know. Talk to you later?”

_“Of course.”_

“Stay safe.”

“ _And you get some sleep before you attempt the impossible.”_

“Bye Methos.”

_“See you soon Harry.”_

* * *

 

The letter to the Flamel’s had not been easy to write. In fact, it was the toughest letter to date. He had been about to send it off with Andromeda’s owl Heracles, when a flash of fire drew Harry’s attention. Fawkes’ reappearance after so many years after Dumbledore’s death was an unexpected thing. Harry was left staring at the Phoenix until the firebird nipped his hand and then pointed at the letter with his beak.

“Good to see you Fawkes,” Harry greeted the creature that had saved his life. “This needs to reach Nick and Nelle.”

Fawkes took the letter and disappeared in flames.

* * *

 

_Harry,_

_An old friend came bearing your letter._

_You silly boy, if we can help of course we will. The Elixir however is the last option._

_Nerve damage you say? Describe the symptoms. Find the medical file as well. If it is Poppy’s even better; that woman loves her details._

_I will help you all I can._

_Nick._

_P.S. my dear wife sends her regards and some tea. Along with instructions. Drink one cup yourself and make one for Andromeda as well. One in the morning and one before bed; it should sooth her while I try to crack this puzzle._

* * *

 

Harry reread the letter before finally giving in and handing it to Andromeda, who even from bed, was rather bossy.

Fawkes was perched on Harry’s knee and the wizard carefully ran his fingers over the fire red feathers.

“The Flamel’s Harry?” Andromeda said with awe.

“Only the best for you,” Harry told her.

* * *

 

Hogwarts was as awe inspiring as ever.

Harry had wanted to Apparate to Hogsmeade but Fawkes had flashed them both over just outside the castle. The phoenix, still perched on Harry’s shoulder, offered warmth and comfort.

“Do you really want to stay with me for this?” Harry asked the bird. “Albus’ tomb is near. We can visit.”

Fawkes rubbed his head on Harry’s cheek and knocked on the door with his beak. Getting the point, Harry knocked.

Filch was still caretaker and the old man had been surprised to see Harry. The shock on his face would have been hilarious but all Harry felt was dread. He had not shown his face around for years for a reason.

“Hello,” Harry greeted the man. “I’m here to speak to Headmistress McGonagall.”

“It’s lunch time. “They’re all in the Great Hall Potter.”

“Shall I show myself in?”

The caretaker opened the door and allowed him to enter.

The walk to the Great Hall was nothing to actually having to enter the room. But Harry had been a Gryffindor.

* * *

 

The Great Hall was filled with the majority of students and with all the professors.

They all turned to look when the doors opened. Most stared at him with confusion. Those who knew him, like Headmistress McGonagall, and the rest of the staff were gasping in shock. The kids of his friends were bug eyed at his face. Teddy, sweet Teddy, was up and running towards him, winding his arms around him in a tight hug, causing Fawkes to fly off Harry’s shoulder but hover nearby. McGonagall stood and with a few strides she reached him and hugged Harry as soon as Teddy let go.

“Harry! So good to see you!” the witch told him.

Hagrid and Neville looked ready to tackle Harry as well.

And as for the students, his name, the sight of his eyes, Teddy hugging him, they were all the clues they needed.

“That’s him?”

“…Harry Potter?”

“…The Saviour?”

“I heard he was a Gryffindor!”

“He looks like a seventh year!”

“Potter?”

Harry tuned out the voices.

“Headmistress,” he told McGonagall. “I’m afraid I need your office.”

“You know the way,” McGonagall told him. “And you can guess the password. It’s one of Albus’ favourite sweets.”

“Keeping with tradition?” Harry asked.

“I try,” the witch replied. “And Fawkes? This boy is going to need you.”

The phoenix trilled.

“I expect you to stay for dinner Harry,” the witch told him. “It is Friday after all. You can take Teddy home later.”

“Thank you ma’am,” the green eyed wizard replied.

* * *

 

Telling Teddy had not been easy. The kid was all worried and insisted to go and see Andromeda, but Harry with Fawkes’ help calmed his godson down and managed to convince the boy to stay until after dinner.

“Fawkes will take us to the castle after dinner.”

“Why didn’t anyone write to me?” Teddy complained.

“She’s a tough one, your Gran,” Harry told the boy as he hugged him close. “Now, show me your friends? Before all the professors try and kidnap me?”

Teddy offered a small smile to Harry and clomped.

Just like the older wizard predicted, Neville tracked him down and managed to steal him away. Still, Harry had enough time to make an impression on the young generation and was the cause of many students writing home that day.

* * *

 

“We never see you!” Neville complained.

“We missed you ‘arry,” Hagrid added.

“And might I say you look amazing,” McGonagall added with the Head of Ravenclaw.

The four of them knew him best out of all the new professors and had managed to whisk him away just before dinner.

“We ‘eard that rumour,” Hagrid started.

“Not a rumour,” Neville cut him off. “I saw him. Harry, you looked a fright. Still, that guy… nice taste.”

“You mean Me.... Adam? Thank you,” the green eyed replied.

They talked for a while. They did not ask Harry why he had not aged and the wizard did not offer. They talked about the things they had done since the war. They had all been surprised to learn Harry actually owned a café in France. And Harry, ever the proud owner, had described the place to them.

“Sounds like my kind of place,” the Charms professor commented.

“For you,” Harry told him, “All of you, the first visits are on the house.”

“Sounds like a cult,” Neville teased.

“The cult of chocoholics and sweetoholics,” Harry agreed.

* * *

 

Harry and Teddy returned to Duibhin Castle that very night with the help of a phoenix and Teddy rushed to Andromeda’s side.

The green eyed wizard first set up a place for Fawkes before calling Methos again. It had been three days since the last time they spoke.

The immortal sounded dead tired.

_“Harry?”_

“How are you?”

_“Exhausted.”_

“Jo? The Watchers? What happened?”

“ _Long story short, war averted. Details are too trivial to mention. Just know that Jo is a Watcher again, Duncan did his thing and the casualties were fewer than what they could be and for that we are all grateful. Enough about us, what about you? What’s going on with Andromeda?”_

“She’s holding on. I’ve written to Nick and his wife,” Harry admitted. “Teddy’s home as well.”

“ _Harry? I’m coming.”_

“Methos! You don’t need to…”

“ _I’ll be there as soon as possible. That’s not something I will discuss, okay?”_

“I’ll pick you up at the airport?” Harry sighed.

“ _Thank you.”_

* * *

 

**End of chapter**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“Who said you could come?” Methos told Duncan.

The Highlander shot him a look.

“Like I would let you all alone,” Duncan told him.

“Shouldn’t you be with Jo? Help him recover and all that?”

“I needed a vacation after all that mess,” the younger of the two immortals replied!

Methos scoffed.

“What are we waiting for?” Duncan asked.

 

“Love, what’s Duncan doing with you?”

 

The two whirled around to see Harry. The wizard looked more frazzled than the last time Methos saw him. Before Duncan could greet the green eyed man, Methos had his arms around Harry and he gave his lover a firm kiss.

“Hey. Missed you,” he told Harry.

The wizard smiled. “Missed you too. Now come on. You too Duncan.”

“Listen, I know you did not expect me, but I can get a room in a hotel,” the Highlander told Harry.

The green eyed man rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, I live in a castle.”

“Castle?” Duncan echoed.

Harry grinned.

 

 

 

Duibhin Castle brought up a lot of memories to Duncan. He had visited Aldourie Castle once but the darker castle had caught his interest. To know that apparently Harry owned it was a bit of a surprise. Methos’ lover held a lot of interesting secrets it seemed. The oldest immortal in the world did not look concerned about this, but Duncan was suspicious. He tried not to let it show of course, he had had manners beaten into him. So he sat in the car making small talk with the pair until they reached Duibhin Castle at seven in the evening.

“I’ll show you to a room,” Harry told Duncan. “Methos, remember the way to my room?”

“Of course,” Methos replied. “Is the runt here?”

“Teddy?” Harry asked. “Yes. He’s here. He will return to school tomorrow afternoon and stay there for a week. The Flamel’s are possibly sending a letter this week as well. I’ll need to tell them about you and Duncan being here and introduce both of you to Fawkes.”

“Who is Fawkes?” Duncan asked.

Harry smiled. He was about to break the statute of secrecy for good.

“You’ll see,” the troubled wizard replied. In his mind the Gryffindor was already making plans to write Kingsley and ask for permission to reveal the magical community in its full glory to his lover and Duncan, who aside from a nuisance, was fast becoming a friend.

* * *

 

That evening Duibhin Castle was quite lively. Andromeda was still not feeling good enough to walk and the potions Poppy was giving her were making her groggy. It was just the males eating dinner. Teddy was introduced to Duncan and the two hit it off, though the child was not as lively as he had been before. Harry tried not to worry yet about Teddy. It was understandingly a difficult time for Teddy, with Andromeda ill and her life in danger. Harry was worried as well for her and he placed all his hopes with the Flamel’s. He wrote to the couple again after dinner, with more news about Andromeda’s health and then sent an owl to the Minister of Magic.

Methos drew Harry close to him when the two lovers hit the bed together.

The wizard buried his head in his lover’s shoulder and sighed.

“I missed this,” Harry whispered.

“I thought you hated me hogging the bed.”

“And the covers,” the wizard complained.

Methos smiled. “Andromeda did not look bad, just tired.”

Harry sighed. “One month, that’s all they gave her after that seizure.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I know. But sometimes, not all that often mind you, I feel guilty for being able to live forever.”

Harry sighed again. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“Go to sleep Harry,” Methos whispered.

“Can’t. I’m too wired to sleep. You can sleep if you want.”

“I can’t,” the Immortal replied. “I missed you too much to sleep.”

Harry blinked. “We are not having sex, Methos.”

“Now who has a dirty mind?” Harry’s lover said. “I just want to hold you like this. Is that a crime mister Potter?”

“No,” Harry snuggled closer to Methos. “No crime at all.”

* * *

 

 “Are you like Adam?” Teddy asked Duncan during breakfast.

Harry was already up and making breakfast for the people in the house. He had managed to get Methos in the kitchen to help him, something that cracked Duncan up. Teddy was in charge of setting the table and the Highlander, as a guest, was just waiting for the food to be served. This was how he was left alone with Teddy and the boy was rather curious about the new visitor in his home.

“What do you mean like Adam?” Duncan asked.

“Adam, Methos… I mean are you immortal?”

McLeod blinked. “How do you…?”

Teddy shot him a look. “He is dating Harry. Of course I know.”

“Fine yes,” Duncan replied.

“How old?” Teddy asked him.

“Four hundred and fifty,” the Highlander replied.

“So Methos is older than you,” Teddy realized. “And where did you first die?”

“Why all these questions?” Duncan told him.

“Because,” teddy replied. “So, did you fight in many wars?”

“You are a curious one, aren’t you?”

“And you are boring,” Teddy told him.

Duncan spluttered.

“That’s my boy,” Methos said from the door, carrying a tray with pancakes.

“Don’t encourage him,” Harry added from behind him, carrying the French toast. “Teddy, fetch the coffee pot please?”

“Sure,” Teddy replied and scurried off.

 

Soon Harry brought the eggs and bacon and the honey to the table and they sat down to eat and chat. Teddy still had a few things to tell Harry about his school, mostly the reactions of the kids at seeing Harry.

“And then Perks from Slytherin said that you were not really Harry Potter but his illegitimate lovechild,” Teddy said with a look of disgust on his face.

The green eyed wizard just rolled his eyes. “Not the most original rumour I’ve heard,” he admitted.

“So, Harry,” Duncan said. “You are some kind of celebrity?”

Teddy snorted.

Harry frowned. “You could say that.”

“He even has fan clubs,” Teddy added.

“Yes, people are just weird,” Harry said.

“Fan clubs?” Duncan said with a chuckle.

“Ignore this and move on?” the last Potter asked.

“You wish,” the Highlander told him.

“Hey!” Methos cut in. “No teasing my lover. Besides you’re outnumbered here.”

“Don’t start you two,” Harry warned his lover and his friend. “It’s too early.”

The two immortals both conceded to this and breakfast moved along.

“I’m expecting mail to arrive today,” Harry commented off handedly.

“Why announce it?” Teddy asked.

“Fawkes is staying with us,” Harry told his godson.

“Really?” the child’s eyes lit up.

His godfather nodded. “Really.”

“I thought that after the old headmaster died he disappeared,” the young metamorphmagus said.

“He’s back and staying for a while, that’s the impression he gave me at least,” Harry replied. “I sent him off to deliver a letter to Kingsley.”

Teddy blinked. Then he eyed Methos and Duncan before looking at his godfather again. “Then it’s serious?”

Harry offered a small nod.

“Want to explain to us?” Duncan asked.

“Well,” Harry started but then a ball of fire appeared over the table.

Duncan and Methos backed away with a yell. Teddy, though a bit startled looked on with a wide smile and Harry, just stood calmly as Fawkes got his bearings. The fire disappeared and the Phoenix and his load remained.

“Morning Fawkes,” Harry greeted the red bird that replied with a soft trill.

“What is that?” Methos asked as he and Duncan approached the table again.

“This is Fawkes. He’s a phoenix,” Harry told them.

“A phoenix,” Duncan parroted.

“Yes!” Teddy replied. “I’m Teddy, Fawkes. Do you like gooseberries?”

Fawkes trilled again and hopped closer to the young metamorphmagus.

“A bird appeared out of a blaze of fire,” Duncan repeated.

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “But you don’t need to worry about this.”

 “ _Obliviate!_ ”

 

Harry saw Duncan stagger.

Methos looked to the door where a tall, dark skinned woman with beautiful characteristics stood.

“Hello Angelica,” Harry greeted the witch.

“Harry,” Angelica Johnson replied. “I’ll take it from here.” She eyed Methos. “You had better explain this. You’ve got half an hour.”

Harry nodded and thanked her.

Methos sat and heard Harry’s explanation. Sure, the green eyed man had mentioned magic before but nothing so drastic, nothing so descriptive. Yes, turning a chair into a dog and back again had been kind of difficult to ignore. Seeing Teddy change his hair to blue, pink, red and neon green before going back to brown had been a trip. Seeing the moving pictures, touching the Phoenix that went by Fawkes, it all solidified that magic was very real and Harry, his Harry was a true wizard.

“Half blood,” Harry had said. “My mum was Muggleborn but dad was pureblood, going back many, many generations.”

Then the green eyed wizard had mentioned books.

“I regret not taking you to see the Library of Alexandria while we were in Egypt,” Harry admitted. “Maybe some other time…”

“The Library is still standing?” Methos exclaimed.

“Yes,” Harry had responded, looking sincere.

“Harry! Five minutes!” came from the witch from the other room.

Harry sighed. “Listen, Duncan is going to have his memories modified. He is also going to find that he needs to return to the US urgently. That’s what the spell is going to do to him. Once he leaves, we’ll talk more and I’ll explain better.”

He then turned to Fawkes.

“I’m sorry, but he should not see you again. Could you please stay out of sight until he leaves?”

The Phoenix bobbed his head once and flashed away.

“He’s probably up in my room,” Harry told Teddy. “Now let’s go stay with Duncan.”

* * *

 

Things happened like Harry said they would. One moment the Highlander was still and the other he acted like Fawkes had never disrupted their breakfast. The witch was nowhere in sight either. Within an hour Duncan had been feeling an urgent need to leave and by noon the Scotsman was out of Duibhin Castle and on a plane to Seacouver. And Harry was suddenly more talkative and the castle more magical. The paintings moved, and winked and talked. The plants felt the presence of humans, Teddy’s hair changed colour. Harry also showed him the letter from the Minister of Magic (there was actually such a title) that enabled Harry to actually inform Methos and Methos alone, that magic was real. And Harry started explaining magic to him. How the magical and the non magical worlds got separated. He spoke of his parents, the truth this time. He spoke of the war with Voldemort. He spoke of many things. And when he had to answer another letter he let Methos in a part of the library he had not realized existed in the castle.

“You are keyed in now,” Harry explained. “That’s why you could not see the truly magical parts before,” the wizard explained. “Here’s the history section. I took the liberty of bringing ‘ _Introduction to the Magical World: Twenty Things You Need to Know and Ten More’.”_

Methos accepted the book.

“Talk to you in a while?” Harry asked.

The Immortal nodded.

Three hours later Harry stopped by the library again. Methos was deeply engrossed in his book and Harry did not disturb him, letting his lover be.

Teddy at his side he opted to just visit Andromeda, keep her company and inform her of what was going on.

“Will he still like us?” Teddy asked his godfather.

“I don’t know, Teddy. I don’t know,” Harry replied.

* * *

 

Methos was really flummoxed. It was not often he was surprised. Really, Magic! He had met shamans, healers, seers. Hell, he was immortal. But magic… sure, he had seen some weird things in his day, met strange people. He had sworn once that he had seen an actual Sphinx in Egypt but had later talked himself out of it as he had been drunk at the time. Now though, now he knew he had not imagined it. A whole other world full of magic and creatures that used to live only in myths and legends was opened to him, Harry made that possible. He read about the Statute of Secrecy, about the two Ministries. About Grindelwald and Voldemort and Dumbledore and Harry Potter. He read about Mermaids, Vampires, Werewolves, Veela and Goblins and many, many other creatures, even Dragons.

The world’s oldest immortal did not stick just to the book Harry gave him, but searched the other books as well. There were hundreds of books, in modern English, Latin, old English, Ancient Greek, Egyptian and some squiggly lines he had no idea what language it was. And the titles… Books on Potions, Poisons, Law, Charms, Runes, Wards, Dark Arts and the Defence against them, Rituals, Etiquette, Genealogy and so many more. After a while he just chose one at random. It was called _Quidditch through the Ages_. That was how Methos was introduced to brooms, actual flying brooms. And there were actual pictures and even the pictures were moving.

“Looks better when you watch the game,” Harry said.

Methos was startled.

“I come bearing gifts,” Harry said, pointing at a tray with sandwiches and beer that was levitated in front of him.

The Immortal stared at the blatant magic of this.

“You are levitating a tray,” he pointed out.

Harry nodded.

“Just making sure,” Methos told him and shut the book closed. “You really are a wizard.”

“Wand waving, broom flying, troll fighting wizard,” Harry said.

Methos started pacing. “I’m thousands of years old and yet not once did I notice this?”

Harry shrugged. “You saw what we did to Duncan.”

“Yes, but whole villages and castles?”

“Anti-Muggle and Notice-me-not charms,” Harry replied. “There are entire cities hidden this way. The Dragon reservations, about two dozen pyramids in Egypt, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and the list goes on.”

“I feel so stupid!”

Harry averted his eyes. “I… I’m sorry.”

Methos stopped pacing. “Not you! Damn it! I’m still shocked and I’m acting like an idiot. Harry, I can hardly fear or despise you or whatever ridiculous notion you have in your head, okay? This is me out of my depth. Doesn’t happen often but when it does I ramble and pace and say stupid things.”

Harry slowly smiled. “When it happens to me things get blown up.”

“Really?”

“Did it to an aunt once, blew away like a balloon. It was quite funny.”

Methos sighed. “We make quite the pair.”

The wizard smiled. “Seems that way.”

“So, you are a wizard. And apparently immortal.”

“You are immortal too.”

“So what now?” Methos asked.

“Sandwich?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. you’ve been holed up in the library for hours now.”

Methos blinked. “I did not notice.”

“That’s okay. Listen, if you want space…”

“You could never hurt me Harry.”

“Don’t bet on it,” the green eyed man whispered.

Methos gave him a curious look. “I really think that nothing you have ever done can rival my life’s history.”

“I killed a man.”

“That Voldemort character?”

“And others.”

“During war,” Methos said.

“I took a guy’s head.”

“So have I, hundreds of times for ages. There are things in my past Harry, dark times. Trust me. It’s me that doesn’t deserve you.”

Harry studied his lover. “We are okay?”

“Better than okay,” Methos replied, closing the distance between them and kissing Harry.

They were truly okay, but the world’s oldest immortal had no idea just how long this situation would last.

* * *

 

Introducing Methos to more aspects of his life was like answering questions of a very inquisitive child, as Harry soon found out.

“Teddy… his hair…”

“Metamorphmagus,” Harry replied. “Just like his mother. By the way his father, Remus, was a Werewolf.”

“Howling at the moon?”

The green eyed wizard grinned, but it was pained. “Not everything is like the movies. I really need to give you my old school books to read.”

“So werewolves…”

“There’s lots of prejudice against dark creatures,” Harry admitted. “Because they are overlooked they tend to side with Dark Lords and that creates a whole new level of hate, vicious circle.”

“And is Teddy…”

“No,” Harry replied. “Only his eyes… They are the same as Remus’. He was a great man. Have I ever told you about my father turning into a stag?”

“No, but I get the feeling that might be one weird story,” Methos sighed.

 

Harry started telling Methos about the Marauders.

Seeing a Phoenix fly and flash like that was truly a sight he had never expected. Methos had read the Arabian tales about the fire birds but had never even dreamed of seeing one, much less feeding or petting one. He was also carrying letters, something that travelled him years back. Then he met Harry’s messenger falcon and Teddy chattered to him about other magical beasts like Hippogriffs and Thestral’s.

“Harry rode a Hippogriff once,” Teddy told him the next weekend he came to visit. “He belonged to the half giant that teaches Care of Magical Creatures. His brother Grawp still stays near the castle; he’s a full bloodied Giant.”

Methos could only stare.

 

Seeing a fire place light up and people travel through was certainly a novel experience. That was how the Flamel’s came to the castle. The said something about using a Portkey to get to Britain and then Floo. Harry promised to explain later and just welcomed Nick and Penny to his home.

“We can chat later,” Nick told the green eyed wizard. “I would like to see Andy.”

Harry nodded. “This way.”

Perenelle sat with Methos while the other two were upstairs.

“So… you’re a witch?” Methos asked. “And I cannot believe I’m saying that to a woman. I half expect yelling and screaming.”

Penny chuckled. “So Harry finally told you.”

“He got Ministry approval and everything.”

“Hm, he’s still the Magical World’s favourite.”

“The Boy-Who-Lived business?”

The witch nodded. “I recall Albus writing us, telling us about Harry’s adventures, how he hated fame. He grew up so much better, all by himself really.”

“He doesn’t speak about his childhood,” Methos commented.

“He will tell you when he’s ready,” Penny told him.

Methos just nodded. “So, Andy. Harry said she was tortured with…”

 _“Cruciatus,”_ Penny said. “One of the Unforgivables. It flays the nerve endings, causing unimaginable pain. Harry was also hit. Well, that boy was hit with all three.”

“I’ve started reading… I hate asking him.”

“You have eternity to learn, literally. Don’t worry; you’ll cover in the blanks eventually. For now, just enjoy knowing that there are more worlds for you to see, more things to experience.”

Methos smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“Say, do you and Harry use condoms? The rubber things Muggle’s make.”

 “Yes…,” he answered slowly.

The witch smiled. “Wizards cannot contract Muggle diseases. Immortals even less. Ask Harry about magical potions and the like.”

Methos laughed. “Whole other world, right?”

“Penny, love?” Nicholas said as he entered the room.

The smiles fell from Methos and Penny’s face.

“What did you find?” Perenelle asked.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen.”

 

 “The Elixir won’t work on her,” Nicholas said.

Three wizards and one Immortal were gathered around the kitchen table.

“The why is simple. We would have to create a new Stone and she does not have the time. I did give her a concoction with some of the elixir and Fawkes’ tears. It helped ease the pain but did not heal her nerves much,” Nicholas informed them. “

“Are there good news?” Harry asked.

Nick smiled. “Yes, the answer to our trouble lies in Druidic Arts, not Alchemy.”

“Do you know any Druids?” Methos asked.

“I know one alive, Harry does as well.”

The green eyed wizard blinked. “Really? I do? Who?”

“Ollivander,” Nick replied.

* * *

 

**End of chapter**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“This is it?” Methos asked.

They were all seated in a car, Penny’s car. A nice red town car that was bigger on the inside. Harry and Methos sat in the back with Teddy while the married coupled were up front, the only witch in their group driving. Harry touched his lover’s arm and pointed to exactly where the _Leaky Cauldron_ was.

“This here is the main entrance, well, the most popular at least, to Diagon Alley,” the green eyed wizard said.

“It’s a pub,” the millennia old man said. “I’ve never seen that shop before.”

“You do now,” Nick told him.

“Hop down boys,” Penny told them. “I’ll go park and meet you at Ollivander’s.”

They all exited the car together and walked towards the _Leaky Cauldron_ and stepped inside.

Methos had a flash back inside. He felt like he had stepped back a couple of centuries.

“This is…” he trailed off.

“Yes,” Nick agreed. “Charming.” But he was sneering slightly.

Harry rolled his eyes. The pub was not busy. The usual clients were there. For the purpose of the trip Harry had placed a glamour on himself, Penny and Nick too. They had explained to Methos the deprecations of being seen would be enormous. How the Alchemist and his wife liked being thought dead.

“It’s less of a hassle this way,” Penny said. “Less people out to kill us and steal our Elixir.”

“Less letters asking for help,” Nick had added. “Being thought old and wise is not as cracked up as people think it is.”

“And Harry here,” Penny had turned to the youngest of the four, “owns some very powerful magical artefacts that people have been known to kill for. Better to be safe than sorry. Also, jealousy can be a bad thing. Many want to be young and beautiful forever.”

“Fools,” Methos had said. Immortality was nice, but the perks did not counteract the drawbacks completely.

So here they were, walking into an alley straight out of another time period and world. Methos took the sights and smells in, eyes wide as he saw blatant magic all around him.

“We can tour the place later,” Nick reminded him as he made his way towards a shop with a stick of wood resting on a pillow, a wand Methos realized.

Harry was also curious about this. He had not been to Ollivander’s much since the war ended and the wand maker reopened his shop. He did not have to, unlike many of his fellow witches and wizards, not when he had the Elder wand. The place looked much like the day he first stepped through the door, an eleven year old boy clueless about the world he was entering.

“Customers? How odd. I had not expected anyone today.”

“We are not here for wands Garrick old friend,” Nick told the wand maker. Harry dropped the glamour when inside the shop but he was not the first person the wand maker noticed. Garrick’s attention was on the male Alchemist.

“Nick?” Ollivander blinked in surprise.

Harry noted that the man looked better than the last time he saw him. Then again he had just been rescued from the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, the place Voldemort used as his base, following a long stay there and being tortured by Voldemort himself. Ollivander saw Harry watching him studying him, and after he greeted Penny as well he approached Harry and drew the green eyed wizard in a hug.

“My boy,” the old man said.

Harry patted back, recalling the man’s previously frail state and seeing how he was now much stronger.

“There cannot be enough times for me to thank you,” Garrick told Harry. “From the moment that Holly and Phoenix wand chose you I knew. Fawkes always chose great wizards.”

“He’s staying with me, Fawkes is,” the last male Potter said.

“Really?” Ollivander said.

Penny and Nick confirmed this as well with nods.

“It was a shock,” Harry admitted.

“Fawkes is a smart one,” Garrick said. “He chose well.” He released Harry and then he noticed Methos. “And who is this? I don’t believe he’s the owner of a wand, certainly not one I’ve made.”

“I’m not a wizard,” Methos said to the man with the oddly white eyes.

“Hm, but you are magical,” Ollivander said. “You have to be to pass the doors to my shop young man.”

“I’m not as young as I look,” the Immortal said, ignoring the smiles on the faces of his companions.

Ollivander peered into Methos’ eyes. “No, I dare say you are not. This is an odd kind of sorcery, but not a strange one. You are the fifth Immortal I have encountered in my life.”

“Fifth?” Methos mused.

“One was a Roman soldier that helped when my family first stepped foot on this island. His ‘children’ were my family’s apprentices, and he married one of my aunt’s daughters. The second Immortal I met was one of Salazar Slytherin’s sons, Septimus. An odd boy with an odd fate. He did not remain Immortal for long. He loved his wife dearly and when she died he took his own life to follow her. The third was a curious man, left an impression. He was from today’s Norway. Brave man, bloodthirsty and driven by greed. He fell by Helga’s sword and wand when he tried to take Hogwarts. Tal was his name and he was the reason wards were raised around the Castle. The fourth was a woman, a charming, impressive woman with a silver tongue. She was old, not in Immortal years. Apparently she gained her Immortality when she reached sixty years of age. She was being hunted down by the fifth Immortal I met. It was how I first saw a Quickening… ” The man sighed. “Powerful the energy of life and death,” he trailed off and faced his unexpected guests.

Harry’s eyes bugged at the information. He had no idea about the things Ollivander said. He considered the man and how he had previously thought that the man was about Albus Dumbledore’s age. Now he had the suspicion that this Ollivander was the same man that had reached the isle and set up shop since 382 B.C. or at least that man’s son. He did not ask but another did.

“How old are you?” Methos asked.

“I was born the year Charlemagne (1) was,” Garrick said with a smile. “My Grandfather opened this shop.”

“You’re still the oldest in this room,” Nick mused to Methos.

“May I ask?” Garrick said.

Methos smiled. “I’m over three millennia old,” he revealed that much but not outright admitted his over five thousand years of age. He did not have to. The number was still impressive and earned an awed look from the frail looking wand maker.

“One of the warriors of old,” Garrick said. He noted his closeness to Harry. “Take care of Mister Potter. He is like a curious kitten, always getting into trouble.”

Harry blushed but the knowing look in Ollivander’s eyes made him swallow any protests.

“Alas, we are not here for social reasons,” Nick told Garrick.

“But now we’ve met again we will keep contact,” Penny added with her husband nodding at her side.

“Oh?” Ollivander asked.

“Do you remember Andromeda Tonks nee Black?” Harry asked.

“The daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Black nee Rosier?” Garrick mused. “Vine, eight and a half inches long with Thestral hair. I remember her well, her daughter and grandson even better.”

“She is suffering from the after-effects of prolonged exposure to the _Cruciatus_ ,” Harry said.

The wand maker flinched. Then a grave look settled on his face. “She looked fine last time, when you brought Theodore for his wand.”

“She’s strong willed,” the green eyed wizard said.

Garrick sighed. “I too suffered. My hands were nearly useless, bad thing for a wand maker that.”

“But you recovered,” Harry said.

“Me and Nick visited Andromeda,” Penny said.

“Alchemy is not the solution for this witch,” Nick insisted. “But the Druidic arts…” he trailed off.

“Bold of you,” Garrick said.

“But necessary,” Harry said. “She does not have long. Her nerves are suffering and making her body slowly shut down.”

“I am a Druid,” Ollivander admitted. “But my art lies with wood manipulation. I am a true wand maker but have no talent in anything but the creation of magical foci and artefacts.”

Harry’s face fell and Methos, who had meanwhile wound his arms around the green eyed wizard, placed pressure there offering comfort.

“However,” Garrick said. “I might know someone who can help. Give me an hour and some privacy and I will see what I can do.”

* * *

 

It was one of the few times Harry did not enjoy the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley. He had the glamour back on and that was the reason the group hardly earned any attention from the witches and wizards that went about their usual lives. Methos did his best to distract him from his worry.

“I wish your first tour had been different,” Harry told his lover when he finished giving the Immortal a first, rough tour of the Alley.

“How about we visit ‘ _Flourish and Blots_ ’?” Nick suggested.

Penny smiled, approving this with delight. “You are going to love this place,” she told Methos. “We can snoop around a bit, buy a few books and perhaps, if we have time stop at the ‘ _Leaky Cauldron_ ’ for a while.”

Methos nodded. “Come on Harry,” he told his lover. “Lead the way.”

Happy for the distraction Harry complied and for the next half an hour they lost themselves among the mountains of books that filled the bookstore. Methos had plenty of questions and he earnestly wanted answers. The green eyed wizard let himself be distracted and Nick and Penny were most helpful. They walked out of the bookstore with a couple of bags filled with books that had caught Methos’ attention, most of them to help understand the new world that had been introduced to him, others in languages he had learned ages ago about history and biographies of wizards or chronicles. They even stopped at the ‘ _Leaky Cauldron_ ’ for a Butterbeer before they finally returned to Ollivander’s shop.

* * *

 

Garrick had been waiting for them, his face relaxed.

“You are quite lucky Mister Potter,” the wand maker told the green eyed wizard. “I found a Druid that deals with healing magic. Olia, my sister is skilled in the healing arts. It was tricky, contacting her, but I got through. Lest I bore you with details, let me just say that Olia agreed to see Mrs. Tonks. I will also need to be there, to help. Just set the places and time mister Potter. Keep in mind lad that I cannot promise anything…”

The relief on Harry’s face was evident. “Seeing her is enough,” the younger man said. “Thank you!”

Garrick had kept to his word. He came by the castle along with Olia, a woman just as wrinkled as the wand maker. Nick and Penny were very respectful and Harry and Methos copied their attitude. Harry led the two Druids to Andromeda’s room. The witch had been told they would be coming. She was not hopeful but had not given up either.

“Let’s see you girl,” Olia told Andy.

Harry and the three immortals watched from the doorway as they Druids did their thing. They spoke in a language long dead as they chanted around Andromeda. The ill witch had not taken any medication as per Olia and Garrick’s instructions. The male Ollivander had a rather supportive role while the female Druid made her diagnostics. Later they all gathered around the bed.

“Difficult, very difficult,” Olia said. “A lot of damage was done. _Cruciatus_ you said? Nasty curse that. I visited the Longbottom’s you know. There was nothing I could do for them, nasty business that,” she turned to Andromeda. “Andromeda, you are one lucky witch.” She turned to Nicolas and Perenelle. “Had you given her any of the elixir I would have been unable to do much. Alchemy and the Druidic arts don’t mix well.”

“Can you help her?” Harry asked. That was the only thing he needed to know.

Olia smiled. “Lucky woman indeed.”

The green eyed wizard sagged with relief.

* * *

 

Teddy had been ecstatic to see Andromeda on her feet the next time he visited. His glee was shared by his godfather and Methos. The green eyed wizard loved this Black and family and hated seeing her waste away. Methos also felt affection for the formidable woman and was glad to see her get better. The two Druids had really worked magic on her. The damage had been repaired to the degree that Olia could. It was not much, but it had earned Andromeda roughly another decade of life. Penny and Nick had stuck around for another day but then had returned to their house, after extracting from Harry the promise to write. Life had started again for the family and they settled back to a semblance of normalcy. The worried looks towards Andromeda were not absent, the fear still gripped Harry. But he tried not to show it that much lest he got on the witch’s temper. Teddy also shot his grandmother looks when she was not looking, as if afraid she would disappear and he would miss her. Andromeda acted as if she had never been ill and the men let her.

 

* * *

 

“Is that...?”

“Yes.”

“But mice?”

“Ice mice, they are cold and make your teeth chatter.”

“And this?” Methos held a lollipop up.

“Acid Pops, they can burn a hole in your tongue.”

The Immortal hurriedly put the lollipop away and focused his attention elsewhere. “This?”

“ **Honey-Flavoured Toffees, which is self explanatory. Those are Liquorice Wands, Sugar-Spun Quills... oh! Chocolate frogs.”**

**“These are not real frogs, right?” Methos asked.**

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s just a chocolate frog, charmed to have a single jump. The frogs come with a collectable famous witch or wizard trading card. We are so getting some. They beat **Peppermint Cream Toads** that are made of cream and hop around in your stomach once eaten.” Harry gave a small shudder which was mirrored by his lover.

“I’m not that big a fan of chocolate.”

“Whatever you don’t eat teddy will.”

“I swear that boy would breathe chocolate if he could,” Methos muttered, making Harry snort.

“Like father like son,” was all the green eyed wizard said. He looked around _Honeydukes._ “Oh! Fizzing Whizbees. You must try some of those!”

Methos sighed. “All these sweets… I’m glad I cannot get high blood sugar.”

“Me neither,” Harry replied excitedly before heading for the counter to pay for his purchases.

 

* * *

 

“THE BALLYCASTLE BATS SCORE!”

The crowd went wild even though they had expected that. The game was against the Chudley Cannons who had not gotten any better since the time Harry was at Hogwarts. Harry who had been used to playing found it an odd experience. Also a bit nostalgic as he watched the Seekers dive and swerve on their brooms. Methos was just amazed because of the brooms.

“I can’t believe this,” the Immortal kept muttering.

Harry grinned. “I used to be a Seeker.”

“You were after that tiny gold ball?” Methos asked. His lover nodded. “Where you any good.”

Harry smirked. “The Snitch is above the Cannons’ goal post.”

Methos blinked. Then he tried to see what Harry spotted and sure enough the green eyed wizard was correct even when the Seekers of the teams had not seen it.

“AND THEY’VE SPOTTED THE SNITCH!”

“Finally!” Harry said as the race was on.

Methos shook his head even as he gripped his seat when he saw the two brooms and their riders plummet down and hunt after the Snitch.

“You did this when you were a kid?”

“Since I was eleven years old,” Harry confirmed.

“Madness…” Methos muttered.

“And swinging a sword around isn’t?”

“WHAT AN AMAZING WRONSKY FEINT! FIVE HUNDREED TO EIGHTY! THE BALLYCASTLE BATS WIN!”

“Point proven,” the Immortal said as one of the Seekers crashed while the other caught the Snitch.

“Wuss,” Harry told him.

“You really think that after that I will ride a broom? The rider maybe but not a cleaning appliance.”

Harry snickered.

 

* * *

 

“Duncan called,” Methos told Harry as they were lounging in the sun room. Harry was sprawled near the Immortal, feet in Methos’ lap with the older man rubbing away at the soles and toes. The wizard sighed and moaned in pleasure and contentment at the attention he received from Methos. The book he had been reading lay forgotten near him.

“Did he now?” Harry commented.

“Hm,” Methos used his thumbs in just the right way, making his lover hum. “There’s an Auction thing going on in Seacouver and he said a few good pieces are on sale. An item used to belong to him and he will try and retrieve it.”

“Does that happen often?” Harry asked. “Immortals finding knick knacks that were theirs long ago in auctions?”

“Not that often but yes. Many items are displaced in wars, rebellions. Hidey holes get discovered and pillaged,” Methos admitted. “After the twentieth century things got better, with banks and safety vaults.”

“Huh! Makes me appreciate magic all the more,” Harry said.

“Lucky wizards,” Methos commented. “But yes, it occurs every now and then. I once found a writing set that belonged to me. It had my initials and everything. It’s still in a museum in China though. And it’s not worth the hassle of retrieving.”

Harry smothered a smiled. For all his blustering that he was not attached to his things, Methos was quite possessive of his trinkets.

“Are you interested?”

Methos considered this. “It’s a hassle.”

“And?”

“Well, he got me all curious,” the Immortal admitted. He released Harry’s foot and the wizard turned his body around so that he now sat facing his lover. “It could be nothing. Chances that I find items I owned are way too slim.”

“Are you worried about me?” Harry questioned. “Andy’s better. Ollivander said so.”

“You like it here.”

“Well, yes. But it has also been two months. That’s two months in one place and the visits to Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade don’t count. I feel stir crazy too.”

“You know visiting Duncan won’t be a simple visit,” Methos warned. “That Scotsman finds himself in way too much trouble.”

“He offers variety.”

“One day he’s going to lose his head.”

“Better enjoy his company while he has it then,” Harry commented, making Methos snort.

“Right. Shall I get tickets?”

“Nah… Let’s use magical travel.”

Methos chuckled. “What? Like flying carpets?”

“We can’t; they were banned in the UK. No. I was thinking of the MTR, the Magical Transatlantic Railway. The only magical railway that crosses an ocean, underwater of course.”

Harry’s lover took the bait. “How soon can you get tickets?”

* * *

 

It turned out that Methos had been correct. While the ride to the States had been a novel and amusing experience the couple enjoyed together, the auction Duncan had invited them to had been nothing to write home about. Sure, there were excellent pieces and Harry bought a few rare tomes he found and a few vases but nothing else. The trinket Duncan had been after was a WW I radio and a few guns that had apparently belonged to long since dead friends. After that the couple had decided to stay for a bit more. Harry booked a hotel room and Methos did what he knew best and pestered Duncan to the best of his abilities.

It was how they reached the situation they were in now. The last male Potter was amused. Methos was still complaining about Harry not having gone with him to that show. The Immortal had had to take Duncan, who had been amused by the way the oldest Immortal had aced the history section but knew nothing about modern pop culture.

“Will you stop laughing? It was not that funny!” Methos said from the bathroom. He was towelling his hair dry.

Harry was on the bed, in his boxers and shaking his head, still laughing. “Nope! I like it when your ego takes a beat.”

“I’m not that bad!”

A snort was Methos’ answer, making the Immortal stalk out of the bathroom and loom over the bed and the green eyed man occupying it.

“Yes, you are love,” Harry insisted. He stood and pressed against Methos. “But that’s part of your charm. Now are you finished with your shower?”

“Yes, go ahead. Don’t be long. Jo is expecting us at his bar tonight. Beers, salty pistachios and rock music.”

Harry smiled. “You’re the diva between us.”

“Am not!”

Harry’s laugher was Methos’ response, one the Immortal was not just going to take. He stalked after his lover and joined Harry in his shower. The green eyed wizard was spluttering at first, but then Methos made him change his tune. The wizard had started soaping up when Methos joins him. At first Harry ignored the other man, thinking Methos just wanted to watch, that would not be the first time. But this time the Immortal had other plans. His calloused hands batted away Harry’s hands. Slowly he started massaging the wizard’s back, earning an approving moan from Harry. Then he moved his hands lower.

“Methos…” Harry muttered when he felt his lover’s palms rest on his butt.

“You know just how to wind me up,” the Immortal sighed as he squeezed the round globes, pressing his body to Harry’s back. It still amazed him how much the wizard turned him on. He absently thought that Penny had been right about the perks of magic when he caught sight of the vial of lubricant potion they had left in the shower added to the one at the bedside.

“Methos… I thought Jo and Duncan were waiting for us…”

“Forget about them,” Methos said as he nipped at the skin on the back of Harry’s neck.

“Not the neck!” Harry moaned half heartedly.

Methos smirked at Harry’s reaction. He continued riling Harry up. He knew just how to tease reactions out of the raven haired wizard until he had his lover needing him as much as Methos needed the younger man. And then he started preparing Harry. By the time he entered him Harry had been begging him for it. Methos had a sadistic streak. He had it reined most of the time but seeing Harry undone with lust, wanting to be taken and being denied was a big turn on for the Immortal. When he sets a pace it is rough, almost brutal but Harry loves it rough every now and then and Methos is always up for a bit of a rough play in the shower or in bed or even in the kitchen like they had one midweek morning. Harry’s noises of pleasure filled the shower cubicle as Methos pounded inside his lover with abandon until he came inside the green eyed wizard. Not a selfish lover, not by a long shot. So he helped support a still dizzy from pleasure Harry against the shower wall and the brought the wizard to his orgasm using his mouth.

Their fun did not end in the bathroom though. They stumbled onto the bed locked in a passionate kiss. Their later meeting with the other Immortal and his Watcher was forgotten as the two lovers tumbled together on the bed. Harry and Methos were busy with each other unaware of the storm coming their way.

**End of chapter.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta’s bit :- (1) about 742AD


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Methos was mentally beating himself up. He felt that he should have known that good things happened to good people only. No matter how much he repented and regretted he still had ways to go to pay back all the tears and hurt he had caused people. He had thought that finding Harry, becoming part of his heart and his world would be his peace. Methos had just been leaving a restaurant with a bag of takeaway food and he was on his way to his and Harry’s hotel room when his worst nightmare came to life. He felt the presence of an Immortal and naively thought it was the Highlander, coming to give him even more grief about that talk show, adding to his lover’s teasing, despite the fact that Harry had made several successful attempts to seduce Methos in hopes of forgiveness. A knife to the chest was all the warning he had. The last thing he saw before temporary death claimed him was the monster that made nightmares, Kronos.

 

* * *

 

 

Waking up after dying always hurt. It was also disorienting and made him feel drunk for all of two minutes and Methos hated that weakness. It was what his old comrade took advantage of. He was gasping as he tried to turn on his back, Kronos' face looming above him.

"It's been a long time. How are you feeling?" the other immortal asked and Methos coughed as he tried to get his bearings.

He quipped back a witty response, something about leaving his heart back in San Francisco and Kronos gave him a cruel grin.

"I didn’t know you had a heart."

Methos fought the memory of Harry surfacing; his very own heart, complete with green eyes and a captivating smile. Then Kronos went on a tirade, how he had searched about his for 'brother' high and low for centuries and Methos finally saw the line when Kronos started taunting him, pointing out his flaws. The oldest Immortal knew he had never been the strongest or the quickest, but Kronos was correct about one thing: Methos was a survivor. When the choice was presented he did not hesitate.

"You can either lose your head or join me, brother."

"With an offer like that, brother," Methos mustered up a smile. "Welcome back," he told the other Immortal and Kronos smiled.

Methos was safe for a while longer.

* * *

 

Harry noticed the change. Methos had been late to return to their room and the snack he had promised and valiantly went to get for the wizard was absent. The Immortal looked pale and worn out and as terrified as Harry had ever seen him be, like back when Kalas was after him. He wanted to pry, desperately, but held back, offering support in his own, silent way.

"I'm sorry," Methos told him later, while they had been trying to sleep. The Immortal turned around and laid his face against Harry's stomach, not wanting to lift his head from there and face the cold, bitter reality. The green eyed wizard's hands were soon buried in his hair and Harry was gently petting his head.

"You can tell me, or chose not to," he told his lover. "But Methos... I'm here for you."

The wizard heard his lover's gasp and the way the older male tightened his grasp on the sheets.

"I want to help you in every way I can," Harry went on to say. "Whether you need a blade, a spell or even just an ear from me. Whatever is driving you to this state...! I've never seen you so panicked and... I'm worried, Methos," the wizard admitted.

Methos lifted his head. His face was so full of anguish that Harry was startled and even more concerned.

"I... I don't deserve you," the oldest Immortal to walk the Earth finally said. "After all I've seen and done... All the pain I caused... I don’t deserve to be so happy."

Harry was all over him then, drawing him in a tight, warm embrace and holding him. Methos shook in his green eyed lover's embrace. There were no tears or sobs but the pain was real and Methos could only cling to his lover desperately, soaking up the comfort offered and tried to forget his dark past that even after so many millennia was back to haunt him.

"I'm here," Harry kept repeating and Methos let him. He knew that at some point he would have to face up to his deeds, reveal more of his dark past to Harry and not just mentions of 'I killed' and 'I conquered'. Harry deserved the truth. It had been years since the last time he felt so guilty or so much self hatred for himself and the brunt of it was leaving him reeling. He hugged Harry tighter, breathing in his scent and trying to forget the smell of fire and burnt flesh and a sea of blood.

When they woke up the next morning Methos put on a brave face, something that had not fooled Harry, but they were both willing to pretend for a little while longer. Methos knew that if Harry had actually asked anything last night he would have told his lover anything and everything, but the wizard did not and the Immortal felt that he could have the green eyed man for just a while longer. Because he doubted that even his sweet and understanding Harry would love a monster like him.

* * *

 

It was not meant to be. The five millennia old Immortal had just been visiting McLeod when it happened, he saw Cassandra. Only his age and reflexive poker face covered his paling features and his tremble. Being honest with himself, in the beginning he had been unable to place her, but when her eyes fired up with hate, then he knew. He recalled that look sent his way from the moment he touched her revived body, dragging her away as spoils of war from the carnage of her people, till the moment she made her last bid for freedom, and succeeded. He had not lied to Harry when he told the wizard he was the one that did not deserve the green eyed man. Cassandra was only one of the thousands upon thousand regrets that boiled down to the darkest period of his life as an Immortal. He got away from the confrontation, head intact and emotions frazzled.

* * *

 

The second meeting with Kronos left Methos in a much worse mental state. Harry was not in the hotel room and the Immortal felt like he could breathe however briefly. He searched around for various knick knacks they had together, all of them scattered around the room in harmony. Methos had been married, over sixty times in fact, and not one of those times had given him as much calm and contentment and sheer happiness as Harry.

Then the key turned at the lock and the wizard walked in the room.

"Methos! Good, you’re back. I was worried you know. Duncan has been calling and asking about you, Joe as well. I feared something happened..." he stopped short. "You have that guilty face again," he commented as he took off his coat and stepped closer to his lover. He wound his arms around Methos' waist and took note of how the guilt seemed to grow stronger. Harry frowned at this and took a step back, never dropping his hold on his lover.

The immortal recognised the look on his face. "Harry..."

"Something bad has happened and I worry so much... I want answers. I should have demanded them last night," the green eyed man told him. "Please..."

And Methos' resolve broke. "You need to sit down," he finally said and he could only hope that his voice would not start cracking now. He had never had to tell a soul about the darkest point of his life. He had not even kept a journal of those years. The memories had been burned onto his mind and his body and Methos did not need further reminders of that age.

They both sat on the couch, Methos did not want this conversation happening on the bed they had slept on, had made love on.

"The times were different," Methos started. "You said yourself this much."

Harry nodded.

"I..." Methos sighed. "I was a different man myself and truthfully, not a nice man at all, in fact, I was the worst sort of man. So, I was a man in a war of bloodshed and conquering and mindless slaughter. There are myths you know, about the Four Horsemen. Not in the Bible only, but long before the Carpenter walked on this earth. It was centuries ago when they walked around, rode horses, spreading hate and pain and disaster. So many dead... So much needless bloodshed... Gods how I wish..."

"So they were real," Harry muttered. "Not just a legend about a group of men..."

"Killing and raping their way?" Methos' voice was cold when he said this. "War, Famine, Pestilence, Death."

Harry cocked his head to the side. He had grown pale, Methos realized, and his hands were tightly knit together.

"Which one were you?" the green eyed wizard asked.

Methos did not want to meet his gaze, but he did anyway. While he was a coward usually, this man before him deserved the truth and nothing but the truth from him.

"Death," Methos croaked out in a broken voice. "I was Death," he admitted and the weight of his former title was enough to make him feel shame. "I was Death. The other three were Immortals as well. We rode together through the Bronze Age..." he trailed off. "One of them... His name was Kronos," Methos muttered. "He tracked me down... He is insane, worse than he used to be back then."

He stood and started pacing up and down the room.

"I have killed, and tortured, it was all I knew back then..." his voice had taken a darker turn. “And Harry, it was not just fifty, a hundred or even a few hundreds, there were thousands of them. I made a trail of blood, decimated villages and settlements and families... We made all that happen and at the time... At the time I did those things... I was so good at it and there was no reason behind all that, not for money, land, food, women... We rode and spread terror because we found it fun," he spat the word with self loathing and hatred and shame. "All the tales of Voldemort and his Death Eaters... I was no better than them... In fact, I was much worse. Death on a horse..."

He started when he felt Harry standing close to him, when those trembling pale hands were touching him. Methos did not dare hope, he did not dare breathe. But he did start praying to all the deities and gods he knew. If there was a chance at redemption, if there was a way for a man as tainted as him to have some reprieve and solace.

"Methos... Look at me."

"I don’t know if I can. What I did... We butchered people. The blood on my hands..."

"Methos..."

He turned, compelled by curiosity and the pleading tone of Harry's voice. Harry's eyes when he looked into them were so old and so weary and he hated bringing that look out. He knew the horrors Harry had lived through and here he was, a manifestation of them, bringing back memories of the worst time in his lover's life, He flinched when Harry touched his face, half expecting the younger man to pull his hand back and see only blood. Suddenly his resolve cracked and before Harry could do anything, Methos pulled away and fled their room.

* * *

 

Joe Dawson sighed when his phone rang. He spared a look at Duncan, who looked like his world was over. It was a blow to learn that the monsters Cassandra had been trying to punish, the monsters she had survived were real and one of them was quite possibly Methos. Joe was willing to wait to ask the oldest Immortal himself, but honestly he was not as surprised or hurt as McLeod was. The Highlander was beside himself trying to reconcile the image of the cowardly Methos with the butchers that were the Horsemen. He had confronted the Immortal in a parking lot and Methos had been vicious and positively cold as he admitted to not only being a Horseman, but to being Death. The argument they had just finished having had not helped the man. Yes, Joe could relate both to Duncan's code of honour and to Methos' dark past. Vietnam had been the closest to hell he could get and that was enough to make the Watcher relate to Methos.

"But he liked it!" Duncan spat with rage. "That was the difference between the two of you and him and me. Yes, we have all killed but not like that!"

"Hold that thought," Joe told him and answered the phone. "Hello?" he demanded.

A distinctly British voice came and he was soon rigid. "Harry? No, Methos isn't here."

Duncan looked up and caught Joe's eye.

The Watcher ignored the Highlander and focused on the distraught man on the end of the line. Apparently Methos had told his lover himself and then walked away, leaving Harry wondering.

"He told you everything?" Joe asked.

_"Not the details, nothing I did not ask about but then again it doesn't take a genius to realize."_

"Listen, do you want to come over..."

_"Thank you Joe, but no. I will stay here; see if he comes back...I got to... Talk to you soon?"_

"Sure kid," Joe muttered but the line was already dead. When he looked up Cassandra was with McLeod. "Well, Harry knows, Methos told him."

"I have a lead on Kronos," she announced. "And who is this Harry?"

Duncan and Joe exchanged a look.

"If you are going to track the Horsemen down," Joe stated, "She needs to be aware that Methos made a life, that he has a family in that man and that they were happy before all this stuff started."

The Immortal woman turned to Duncan for answers. "Is that true? That monster dared..."

"Before you go off, Harry's innocent," the Highlander stated. "He and Methos have only been together for a couple of years. He knows about Immortals but... Promise that however much you want Methos, you'll leave Harry alone," he demanded of the woman. Because while he was angry at this friend... now former friend, Methos' lover was not getting dragged into this. He would even fight her if she harmed the green eyed man. "Promise me Cassandra."

"I promise."

* * *

 

 **End of chapter**.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
> Spoilers for Season:5 / Episode:12 - 'Comes a Horseman'

Harry was angry and worried at the same time and when this happened then he either got brilliant ideas or did something stupid. This time he was unsure what category he was falling to. As long as he finished listening to Methos confessing his sins, his past and his regrets, he knew that he still loved the Immortal, that he would forgive him no matter what. He believed that what happened in the past was truth, but he also believed that Methos had changed. He had to believe that.

Following his call to Joe, he actually went and tracked down the Watcher and asked more questions. He walked into a kind of war council where Duncan, the Watcher and a beautiful woman were trying to track down the four Immortals that had been the Four Horsemen. Harry's arrival made the men look up and the woman stop pacing.

"Harry!" the Highlander exclaimed upon seeing him.

The Watcher groaned and the woman looked at him sharply.

"Is this him?" she demanded, walking up to Harry even as Duncan went to the wizard's side, ready to hold her back.

Harry did not miss the byplay. "Who are Caspian and Silas?" he asked instead.

Duncan hesitated. "Joe told me that Methos..."

"Told me about the Four Horsemen, yes. Kronos tracked him down," the wizard revealed. "Methos was worried for days, worse than when Kalas was tracking him down... and will you please stop glaring at me?"

"Cassandra," McLeod warned the Immortal woman.

"He has to know where they are!" the woman raged. "He slept with Death! He must ..."

"Hey!" Harry glared at her. "I don’t care who you are..."

"One of your lover's victims," Cassandra snapped. "Only I survived."

"It’s been millennia," Harry told her. "People change."

"People, not monsters," the woman replied.

"Well," Joe cleared his throat. "I checked the Watcher database."

Cassandra dropped her staring match with Harry and walked towards Joe, leaning close to see what the man would come up with. When she saw the name ' _Evan Casparri_ ' her face grew cold.

"That's Caspian," she said.

"He’s in Romania," Joe said, "In an asylum for the criminally insane," he announced to the room.

Harry stood to the side, listening as plans were made. He was going to follow them and he glared down Duncan and Cassandra when they tried to protest his presence as they went to chase the Immortals down. Harry was going to let Methos know his thoughts, how he felt and no one was getting between him and his lover.

* * *

 

Methos had been trying to focus on his book instead of the three utterly insane Immortals or the lover he had left behind. He was biding his time, trying to figure out what to do, when Kronos finally revealed his hand to his 'brothers'. He hoped against hope that his message and all the clues he had left in Romania and that asylum would be enough to lead the Highlander and even Cassandra to him as he tried to think up a plan, stall...

Biological warfare was not what he had in mind and when he saw that Kronos had gotten his hands on a vial with who knew what kind of deathly virus... The Immortal that used to be Death shuddered inwardly.

Then Kronos started explaining his thoughts. "They called us the end of the world," he said and Methos wanted to roll his eyes at the drama. It would have been funny if the situation had not been so dire.

Methos was a drama artist as well and he could lie with the best of them. So he did and said what Kronos and the other two expected him to do. He convinced them to start small, with a fountain, then a pool, then a city's water supply. He frightened even himself with how good he was at being Death again. His skin was crawling with disgust and self hatred. Then, this plan would have brought him elation and glee. Now though, Methos felt every one of his five thousand years. Everywhere he looked, the insanity of his old comrades was making him feel pity at them.

Silas was a remnant of an old age. At two thousand he was still stupid and vicious and crazy, blood crazy. He had been the one Methos had always thought as the small brother, the runt of the litter. Caspian was insane, a cannibal and as sadistic and bloodthirsty, much like Kronos, only he lacked the leader capabilities. He realized once again that he, Methos, had been the planner behind all the horror and bile rose in his throat again. He had been many things but this, being Death, was the lowest point of all.

"... Brother?"

Methos blinked and stared at Kronos. "Sorry, drifted off with plans."

"Eager for the kill?" Silas grinned like a kid.

Methos nodded, trying to speak as little as possible. The more he said the more he betrayed his changed heart and Kronos was not stupid. If Methos made one slip, then it would be his last.

"Killing can't erase what happened," Harry overheard Duncan saying that to Cassandra.

It was true, the wizard realized. He had not forgotten Tom Riddle or the death and pain his minions spread. He would never forget how Bellatrix Lestrange killed and tortured so many. It had been years, the monsters of his past dead and buried and their ashes gone as well, but the pain of their tormenting had eased. Duncan was correct, living helped heal most wounds. For Harry, living included his hard headed Immortal lover.

Sharing room with the two Immortals was not easy. Duncan was quite the diplomat and when he left with the rather transparent excuse that his credit card was not accepted by the Hotel it was just him and the Immortal woman and Cassandra had been glowering at him for a while now so Harry knew what to expect.

He was not disappointed. As soon as Duncan was gone she was at him like a dog with a bone, demanded answers and explanations and trying to change his mind about Methos. This was one very scarred and deeply hurt woman, Harry realized. She had probably been feeding on her hate for a couple of thousand years and she had not moved on, he doubted that even if the unthinkable happened and she killed Methos, that even then she would have closure. She was her own worst enemy, just like he was his own worst enemy, likewise about Methos and Duncan. Harry wondered if every Immortal was messed up, so far he believed it was the norm and he did not like his chances.

"I deserve to get revenge for what they did to me! What your lover did to me! You have no idea what it feels like, losing everything, dying again and again and still seeing the faces of your tormentors, still living in that hell..." Cassandra yelled at Harry.

"No, I don't know just how it was for you. I have lost people though, I have felt pain and torture," the wizard retorted. "And I survived. Every day I live while they are dead and it changes nothing at all. The monsters that took that life away from you are not all present now. I cannot speak for the other three but Methos, my Methos is changed. He is nothing like the man he used to be two thousand years ago. He's not even the same man he was five hundred years ago. People can change and he has. He regrets what happened..."

"He’s just that good of an actor! Biding his time, ready to strike when you least expect."

"I don’t know what face he had when you met him, but the Methos I know joked with me, held my hand, made love to me, supported me, danced and cooked for me. The Methos I met made my godson smile and laugh, opened presents with me, travelled around the world with me, watched silly movies on the telly. The Methos I know had helped me save my aunt, helped me find a meaning to my life," Harry heatedly protested, recalling all those times with the Immortal that held his heart. "What you describe is a monster that died long ago, Cassandra, and in its place is a wonderful and caring man with weaknesses and so many faults and numerous demons and regrets. Death is gone Cassandra and there's just Methos now."

The woman stared at him, taken back by the ferocity with which Harry talked about the oldest Immortal.

"Believe what you want and I'll do the same," the green eyed wizard finally said, tired of shouting. He just retreated to his corner to bide his time until Duncan returned.

The church was quiet, lit candles and all the privacy they would need. Methos and Duncan stood on opposite sides. Words were exchanged and once again Methos was faced with how idealistic McLeod was and how annoying that was. He shared how Cassandra had escaped as they walked through the graveyard, trying to make the younger Immortal see his point, that the world was not black and white or even grey. There were so many shades, so many details.

"Kronos' plan, world living in fear of the Horsemen," Methos declared. He was hoping, counting on Duncan to be his usual, chivalrous self. Kronos had been right about one thing, Methos had the head for planning. SO he planned and hoped against all hope that Duncan would take the bait, go to the fountain, disarm the bomb, track the Horsemen down and hopefully kill Kronos. If there was one thing Methos knew he could not do was raise a blade of any kind against Caspian or Silas or even Kronos. They had been brothers once, yes, but what kept Methos back was their nature. if he himself thought them monsters that needed to be put down lest the world suffered, then what about himself? Was he not a monster? Had he not done the same vile crimes those three had done? Who would bring justice to his victims, punish him? Cassandra? Duncan? The Watchers? Harry? He had no idea. So he lied and planned and hoped the Highlander would come through for him. Because despite how much Duncan protested, Methos knew that the Scottish man came to see him because deep down he still thought of them as friends.

'If I've lost Harry,' Methos thought to himself, 'The least I can have at this point is a sort of friend.'

* * *

 

Harry had no time to warn Cassandra not to open the door. He would have thought that the Immortal would have been more alert as to the dangerous times they were in.

"Don't!" he tried to tell her but it was already too late.

It was too late for her to reach for her sword, Caspian had been faster. Kronos approached, wielding a knife and looking quite eager to use it. He taunted Cassandra, promising a world of pain. And then his eyes fell on Harry and a nasty smirk appeared on his face.

"Well, well, well," Kronos muttered. "What do we have here? I guess I’ll return this," he waved the knife around," Later Cassandra."

Harry could not help but shudder as the three Immortals advanced on him and Cassandra.

* * *

 

 **End of chapter**.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander the series and I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the tv series and the books respectively. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
> Spoilers for Season:5 / Episode:13 - Revelation 6:8

“This is new,” the green eyed wizard known as Harry Potter muttered. He craned his sore neck, knowing there was a wound on the back of his head. He could feel the dried blood there. He stretched his legs and connected with something soft. He pulled them back when he saw Cassandra. He was at her side just when she drew breath, waking to his worried face. Harry, used to the abruptness Immortals had when recovering, put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Where…?” she gasped.

“Breathe,” Harry told her.

She complied and he watched her recover.

“Where are we?” she asked him.

It was Silas who answered them. The Immortal was outside their cage, brandishing an ax and giving them a terrifying grin.

“You two are awake,” he said.

“You!” Cassandra spat. She made to get up but Harry stalled her.

“What is this place?” he asked. “Why did you and your… brothers bring us here?”

Silas cocked his head to the side. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“That’s me, mister curious,” Harry replied. He made eye contact with Silas. Behind the insanity and the blood thirst he saw the answer that Silas had brought to the forefront of his mind even though the wizard knew this Immortal would not answer him. Kronos had made him and Caspian go to the hotel. They had expected only Cassandra but Kronos later told them he had seen Harry with Methos. The green eyed man was here as collateral, Cassandra for Duncan and Harry for Methos. Because apparently, Kronos was suspicious of the oldest man alive.

Silas laughed and left them alone. The duo got a glimpse of Caspian up the stairs waiting for Silas. Then it was just the two of them again.

 

* * *

 

“You sent MacLeod to that fountain.”

Methos kept a cool head, a patronizing look on his face. He would not show emotion because Kronos was worse than a hound, detecting weaknesses, real and imaginary, and using them to bring people to their knees. He let Kronos talk, gloat how he knew Methos would tell Duncan, gloat about how he got his hands on Duncan’s woman.

“… While she was unprotected,” the Immortal with the scar running down his right eye revealed. “That was the plan? Right? I know you Methos, better than you know yourself.”

Methos covered a grimace he wanted to make, every fibre of his being protesting Kronos’ claim.

“I wonder what MacLeod will think of you now,” Kronos mused. “You, his friend, betraying him and taking his woman… I know what I would feel… Hatred. I’d want you dead.”

“Well… then we should prepare for that.”

Methos nodded. “Did you send Caspian or Silas?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Both,” Kronos replied and Methos cursed inwardly.

However the oldest Immortal did not get any reprieve.

“We wait till our brother’s return,” Kronos said. “Meanwhile… We really should feed our prisoners.”

“Prisoners?” Methos asked.

The grin he got in return made his stomach roll unpleasantly.

“Didn’t I tell you? Cassandra was not alone in that hotel room. She had company; a young, pretty boy. He felt like an Immortal as well. Green eyes, messy hair.”

Methos paled. “What?”

“Right…” Kronos gave a terrifying grin and Methos then knew; he knew Kronos was aware that the young man meant something to Methos, more than Cassandra, more than MacLeod’s trust and friendship.

“Better yet,” Kronos said. “I’d feed them myself. But I could use the company.”

Methos followed after Kronos in a hurry, hating himself for revealing his weakness.

 

* * *

 

Harry and Cassandra sat on opposite sides of the cage. The green eyed wizard was considering using his wand to get both of them out of here but he held back for two reasons. One, he wanted to know where Methos was and whether he was safe. Two, he knew Silas was going after MacLeod and Harry had no idea whether the Highlander was alive.

“I hate this,” he muttered and Cassandra snorted. “What?” he asked her.

“I just wonder how a man like him could fool you so much.”

The wizard sighed. “I was not fooled. Believe it or not, as soon as he revealed he was an Immortal he did mention his past. He said he had killed and done unspeakable things. The thing is, I’ve also killed.”

“For pleasure?” Cassandra demanded in a challenging tone.

“No, for survival,” Harry replied. “But I’m not going to judge Methos for things that happened millennia before I was even born. I know he had lovers and wives before he met me. That he had comrades and friends and enemies. His past and his memories made him who he is today. I’m not even asking you to forgive him,” he told her. “What I would like is for you to stop trying to change my mind. I love the man he is today.”

“You are a fool.”

Harry smiled. “Yes, maybe I am.”

The Immortal woman noticed the fond look on his face and averted here eyes. Finally she sighed.

“Do you trust him that much?” she inquired.

Harry nodded.

“Then I hope you are right,” Cassandra told him. “For both our sakes.” Then she went rigid. “They’re coming.”

 

* * *

 

Methos felt Cassandra before he saw the cage. Then, when the dratted prison was in sight he could see the two people in there. He nearly missed a step as he followed Kronos with two bowls in his hands. The Immortal woman that died during the Bronze Age noticed them first and her eyes burned with hate. Then, Harry turned and Methos once again saw emerald eyes.

“This is familiar,” Kronos muttered as he sauntered up to the cage, Methos a step behind. “Put the food down brother.”

Methos complied, approaching the cage, his back to his ‘brother’ and his eyes staring right at Harry, completely ignoring Cassandra.

“I’m not a sorry slave anymore,” Cassandra hissed and kicked the bowls away.

Methos did not flinch at the crash, but he did straighten his back when Kronos touched his shoulder.

“They are funny aren’t they?” the Horseman taunted. “Dead even though they still breathe. As soon as the Highlander is dead… Oh, that got your attention,” he grinned at Cassandra. “That’s right; MacLeod has probably lost his head already. I sent Silas and Caspian after him. What do you two think? Will he survive?”

Cassandra gasped. “You monster! I’ll rip out your head first chance I get. I won’t even need a blade!”

It only made Kronos grin and ignore her as he focused on Harry. “And you are being silent, isn’t he Methos? Was he always so silent?” he leered at Harry and seemed unconcerned with the glare the wizard was giving him.

“Kronos…” Methos swallowed hard.

Right then Silas arrived and seemed to be yelling for Kronos. The last sighed and left Methos alone with the two prisoners. As soon as Kronos was out of sight and hearing, Methos approached the cage again and grabbed Harry gently through the bars.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not caring how desperate he sounded.

Harry favoured him with a reassuring smile. “We’re both fine,” he replied. “But I have a bone to pick with you mister. Leave me behind again and I’ll tie you to the bed, better yet, to myself,” the wizard threatened.

Methos smiled and kissed Harry’s hand. “As long as you’re alive,” he said. “You’re still in danger. When you’re safe…” he sighed and took a deep breath. It would not do to start panicking now or start questioning why his lover had decided to follow Duncan or why he had not escaped yet, secrecy about the magical community be damned. He hated seeing Harry behind bars and concrete, in this place, in the company of the monsters of his past.

“Sooo, was that creep right? Is Duncan…?” Harry trailed off.

Harry’s lover sighed. “I have no idea. Listen, Harry, do you think you can? the two of you can escape?”

The ‘with magic’ part was left hanging in the air but the wizard understood and nodded.

“I…” Harry started but the oldest Immortal shushed him and stepped away. Just in time too, because Kronos stormed up to them, looking enraged, Silas at his heels.

Methos rejoiced at the fact that there was no sight of the Caspian.

“… If MacLeod gets close… Kill her!” Kronos ordered Silas as they came close to the cage.

Silas was carrying his ax and Kronos had his sword out.

“He’s alive?” Cassandra asked, looking hopeful and relieved that her champion, lover and friend had apparently not fallen. That he had taken Caspian’s head made her feel even more elated.

“Not for long,” Kronos growled. “Methos! With me.”

When the immortal did not immediately jump to his feet, Kronos turned to Silas.

“Anything happens and green eyes here dies painfully,” he ordered and waited for Silas to nod, before looking pointedly at Methos. “Is that enough of an incentive for you, my clever friend?”

“Kronos…” Methos tried.

“If you want your little toy alive then you better get ready. As soon as I own the world you can have him if you still want him,” Kronos told him and Methos got reluctantly to his feet and followed after the Immortal with the scary eyes. “We are going to poison a city, Methos and no tricks from you.”

 

* * *

 

They had been about to leave and Methos was already plotting how to incapacitate Kronos. He was no good against the other Immortal in a fair battle but he was crafty and he was desperate to survive because he wanted Harry safe. But then, Duncan came and Methos knew that he had more of a chance now. He let Kronos do the talking, trying to threaten and blackmail Duncan into putting his sword down lest Cassandra dies. When the Highlander refused he knew the battle was on. He was about to slip away when Duncan turned his gaze at him, looking a bit like a wounded puppy.

“You set me up,” he accused Methos, who nearly rolled his eyes.

If they survived this, the oldest Immortal vowed to have a talk with the Highlander. Really, no one should be that noble and chivalrous, it bordered on stupid. He also seemed unable to take a hint or look further than the obvious.

“I always go with the winner,” Methos decided to say, mindful of Kronos’ presence.

“Tell Silas to finish her while I deal with your friend,” Kronos ordered Methos.

The Immortal that posed as a Watcher did not need further prompting. He was on his feet and leaving but with an entirely different agenda in mind when Duncan called for him, asking him not to hurt the woman. Methos paused, just enough to give him an exasperated look. Then he ran, eager to get to Silas before the prisoners were hurt. Methos knew Harry could hold his own but now was not the day to test his immortality.

 

* * *

 

The sound of swords clashing reached them and Harry and Cassandra shared a look. Silas caressed the handle of his ax. Harry was mentally preparing. One move from Silas and the wizard would retaliate. When Methos appeared with his blade drawn Silas seemed to become more alert and eager to use his weapon.

“MacLeod’s here?” Silas demanded.

Methos nodded and Silas reached to open the cage. He pulled Cassandra out first, roughly handling her and pushing her to the water that was splashing around the cage. Then he reached for Harry and the wizard winced as the bigger man nearly crushed his arm with his strength. Methos did not look pleased if the thunderous look on his face was an indication.

“Silas…” he tried but the ax wielding Horseman ignored him.

“Just wait till I finish this one,” he told Methos and raised the ax over Harry’s head.

Methos’ sharp blade against Silas’ stomach made the big man pause in confusion.

“Brother? You are challenging me? For his life? You don’t want him anymore then? I can have her head, I don’t mind,” Silas told Methos, misinterpreting the other Immortal’s intent.

The oldest Immortal in the world was practically trembling with rage and tension as he ground out an, “I’m not your brother.”

It was then that Silas realized that Methos was actually opposing him.

“Are you really going to do this?” Silas asked. “This is what we do, this is our true nature? Are you betraying us? What we have?”

“Harry, take Cassandra and go, leave as fast as you can,” Methos said, eyes trained on Silas. Then he addressed his opponent. “You don’t know anything about me, who I really am not,” he said and attacked.

Silas was quick to fend him off and push him back. Then he advanced on Methos just as Harry got onto his feet and helped Cassandra stand.

“Come on,” he told her. “We need to find a bigger space and you need a weapon, we both do.”

Cassandra stared at Methos and then at Harry.

“Come on!” the wizard urged her again and they started running.

 

* * *

 

Methos led Silas on a merry chase. He knew how his once comrade fought, recalled how heavy the ax was and how Silas needed space to manoeuvre it and how easily he tired when he had to run a lot so he used it to his advantage. He did not count on being seen by Kronos while he fought with Silas and he thought the look on Duncan’s face when he too noticed them was bordering on ridiculous. But he ignored it and continued to fight off Silas while inwardly wondering whether he could actually do this, take Silas’s head for real. So he fought and tried to hold it together because Silas was skilled and more powerful and Methos had to be quick on his feet to dodge and do enough damage on the other Immortal, enough to bring him to his knees. That is when he did it. He got past Silas’ defence and with a clean strike he followed the move he had started and took Silas’ head off.

Then the mists that speared out of nowhere suddenly were a prelude of the Quickening that was going to take place. Methos absently realized that he could not hear the clashing of swords from where Duncan and Kronos were facing off. He glanced and barely caught sight of the Highlander standing before the energy swarmed him. It was too much, too strong as the Quickening’s from both Kronos and Silas rushed all over the place. Thunder lit the place up, creating explosions and fire and so much energy that both Duncan and Methos fell to their knees, staggering from the rush and the pain of the energy being absorbed within them.

 

* * *

 

Harry felt the Quickening before he stumbled upon it. He and Cassandra had been trying to keep clear of the fights but when the lightning came they rushed back.

“He’s done it!” she said as soon as her eyes spotted the Highlander.

The wizard immediately searched for his lover and he saw him, finally, on his hands and knees, trying to breathe properly. He left Cassandra’s side and ran towards Methos while everything exploded around him. He was just a few feet away, waiting for the energies to calm and dissipate. He could feel them all over his skin, carrying power and life and death and Harry felt grateful when it stopped. He reached Methos’ side in seconds, dropping to his knees next to his lover, ignoring Silas’ decapitated body.

“Methos?” Harry softly inquired.

“I… I killed Silas,” the Immortal said, his voice roughed and nearly hysterical. “I liked Silas!”

And Harry understood without any words just what that meant to his lover. Even monsters had friends and family and the Four Horsemen had been that, a family the four of them had created. They had ridden together for years and that was a bond that was hard to disregard. The horrors that accompanied those times and those memories for Methos were interwoven with memories of his fellow Horsemen. Had not Silas threatened Harry, Methos would have probably let him go. But he had and it all came down to this. He did not regret it, not one bit, but it hurt so much, the realization that he had raised a blade against Silas… That he had practically judged another who was so similar to what he had been. He felt like such a hypocrite. Grief and relief tore at him, making him unable to stand straight. Then Harry placed his hands around him, drawing Methos up and hugging him tightly. Methos clutched him back desperately, burying his face in the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder. He was shuddering and trembling from the shock of his actions and the after affects of the Quickening. Dry sobs racked his slender frame and Harry held on.

“I’m here,” the green eyed wizard told him. “It’s over now, I’m here,” he kept repeating as he tried to get his lover to relax.

Harry was alert and he noticed Cassandra advancing on them. He saw her spare a contemptuous look at Silas’ body before she picked up the discarded ax and focused on Methos.

“No,” he told her. “Don’t you dare, Cassandra? He’s been through enough. Walk away,” Harry warned her. Because he would fight her in order to keep his lover safe.

“Am I to forgive him?” she demanded. “Feel sorry for him? Forget?” her voice rose with each word.

“I’m not asking you to feel anything,” Harry told her. “I’m telling you to leave us alone. There is no revenge for you to take. Unless you kill me first, I’m not letting you near him.”

She wavered and dropped the ax. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“That’s not for you to judge,” the wizard told her.

“Cassandra!” Duncan’s voice reached them. The Highlander was being supported by a rail, looking a real mess.

“I suppose you want him alive as well,” she said. Her voice held pain and sadness but she did not make to pick up a weapon again. She gave one last look at Duncan and then her piercing gaze fell on the immortal lovers. Then she shook her head and walked away and Harry’s focus was back on his lover.

 

* * *

 

“… _One of a thousand regrets, MacLeod, one of a thousand regrets…_ ” (1)

 

Those words were heavy on his mind as he left the cemetery and returned to the room he shared with Harry. Cassandra had returned to the hotel, packed her things and disappeared with only a letter to Duncan. Methos could not bring himself to care about her or her plight or her well deserved right for revenge, not when he had to face Harry. The wizard had also gathered his things and had followed the oldest immortal on earth to this new location after a few parting words to the Highlander. Methos knew that his lover had certainly been patient, held him through his breakdown, the second one since Harry was in a coma. It was more than what he had hoped for when he had feared that revealing his past would drive the man he loved away from him for ever. Hearing Harry defending him to Cassandra despite the haze of his pain, back in that abandoned base had made his heart feel alive again, feel like there was a future for them. But his talk with Duncan had dampened his spirits, the whole debacle with the Horsemen had shaken him and it would be a while before he recovered and put his ghosts to rest again. Currently, Methos felt numb and raw, like he could not fit to his skin perfectly.

 

When he saw the room empty as he closed the door he feared that Harry had left. Then common sense kicked in and he saw the luggage still there and the balcony door open.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself as he took a few deep breaths to calm down.

“You’re back,” Harry said as he came in from the balcony.

“I had to see him,” Methos said as he took his coat off, hiding how shaken he had been when he thought for a moment that Harry was gone.

“Yes, Duncan was rather angry. He believed you orchestrated Cassandra’s kidnapping to bring him closer to Kronos, finish him because you could not do it.”

Methos sighed and fell on the bed. The mattress dipped as Harry joined him. They stayed that way; close enough to touch but not really touching, as they stared at the ceiling and the chandelier hanging from it.

“Was he right?” Harry asked.

“I had no idea you were with them.”

“So, that’s a yes. You are one crafty bastard, luv.”

Methos snorted. “Still calling me that? Still loving me despite being a monster?”

“You don’t have the face of a monster and you certainly don’t have the heart of one.”

“I used to.”

“Well, you used to think the earth was flat too,” Harry quipped.

“Harry…”

“I’m not being blind about this,” the wizard said, his voice serious. “And I did give it a lot of thought after you ran away before I could stop you.”

“Can you still be in the same room with me? Share my bed? Despite everything?”

Harry sighed and turned on his side, facing Methos. “No, not despite everything. Cassandra was right about who you were then. But I’m right about who you are now. I never doubted you, Methos so stop trying to make me. It’s one game you won’t win.”

“My stubborn Harry.”

“That’s right,” the wizard grinned. “I’m yours.”

Methos turned on his side as well. “You might come to your senses one day, I won’t blame you.”

“Are you planning genocide and mindless slaughter any time during the future?” the wizard asked.

“What? No!”

“Then Death the Horseman is dead and buried, pun intended,” Harry firmly stated. “Kronos is dead, Silas and Caspian as well. It’s over, Methos.”

“Yes, yes it is,” the Immortal said; his face relaxed finally after so many days of worry and stress. “I guess… I’m really free from them, from the past.”

Harry moved closer. “You are.”

Methos smiled. “She was right, I don’t deserve you… Let me finish, Harry. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t care. I love you so much… When I saw you in that cage I knew… I knew you were there because Kronos did not trust me, because he needed me on a leash. Why didn’t you leave Harry?”

“Because I wanted to make sure that you were alive and safe,” the wizard replied.

“Definitely don’t deserve you,” Methos muttered before closing the distance between them and kissing Harry, something he feared that he would be unable to do ever again.

* * *

 

**End of chapter**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( 1 ) Direct quote from the TV series


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